Spiteful Mutation
by Serpent Magick
Summary: ABANDONED. Complete overhaul of the concept, which you could call a rewrite. See 'Deceptive Ataraxia'.
1. Dishonest Intentions

Disclaimer: I do not own pokemon, but this is my idea, and pretty much anything you don't recognize is mine.

**A/N:** Ok, I know I have another fic in the works, and I will not abandon it (I have ideas for a sequel XD), but I read a parody and decided to try my hand at a more original pokemorph story (by original I mean no Mary Sues, overused pokemorphs, too-easy escapes, ect, ect). This will be taking place in the Sinnoh region, and will have pokemon from every generation, but will NOT follow the story line of the game or show.

**A/N:(1/17/09) **Finally got around to fixing some of the stuff that was really bugging me. Still not perfect, I know, but better (I hope...). Not too much has changed, mainly detail and wording, so it's not really necessary to re-read ^^'

Also: "/-/-/-/-/" indicates a scene or time change.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira Gray was not a girl of extraordinary looks, nor a grandiose past. She was somewhat pale and stayed that way because she was rarely out during the day, with dark green hair and grey-green eyes. She did not aspire to be the greatest pokémon trainer; she had never battled pokémon, or had one of her own when she was younger. Her joy came from caring for the fascinating creatures that inhabited the world.

At current time she would often take odd-jobs to help pay for her expenses, and was a junior nurse at the Pokémon Center. At 16 years old Naira was schooling herself instead of going to a public school; really not that uncommon considering how many trainers did the same thing on their travels.

She had recently moved to Hearthome City away from her parents in Oreburgh City because of an argument over her profession of choice, and was currently renting a small house (_More like a shack…_) from a distant uncle. It was a relatively comfortable life that she lived; not a lot of pressure, and Naira reveled in the freedom.

Coming out of a light doze Naira looked at the red glowing numbers of the digital clock and saw it was 10:30pm; she was due at the pokémon center at 10:45 to start her shift. She hurried to get dressed and grabbed her jacket as she practically ran out the door. As she ran towards the Center she didn't see the two figures standing in the shadow against her house, or hear the words they exchanged. The shorter of the two looked thoughtfully at the other.

"Is that her?" he asked.

"Yes; that's her." The other male confirmed in a flat voice.

/-/-/-/-/

_It's very dark tonight_, thought Naira as she was jogging towards the Pokémon Center. There must have been some heavy cloud cover, for the air felt heavy and the streetlamps didn't seem to illuminate the path very well. Usually there were people still about at this hour; whether they be talking to each other or taking their babies out in strollers. Not tonight. The streets were abandoned as if the oppressing weather purposefully driving the people inside.

Naira took the familiar path to the Center and arrived just at the time she was due to be there. Since she wasn't really a pokémon trainer, actually and up-and-coming breeder, she figured the experience in the nursing field wasn't a waste of time. Nothing was out of the ordinary as she stepped into the Center and announced her presence, and she set to work immediately.

This evening wasn't that busy, with only one critical condition (a Buizel hit by a Raichu's thunder attack…the Trainer evaded questioning and quickly left the Center after checking the water weasel in) it was really pretty boring. Naira kept herself busy with organizing the numerous medicines in the back while the Chansey tended to the few resting pokémon. She finally stopped when there was nothing left to organize, and after double-checking her work she went back into the ward.

On the bed furthest from her was a Roselia, its left rose wrapped in bandages. Next to that was the tired and scorched looking Buizel, whom occasionally whimpered and kicked in his sleep. Across from the water weasel was a Pachirisu, who was panting in fever; a sickness blush across its yellow and white face. The final patient was an unusually small Buneary, which looked on the verge of tears.

Taking pity on the small brown and cream colored bunny, she lightly strode over and gently lifted it to her chest. She smiled and rubbed its soft ears until it closed its eyes and sighed, ready to sleep. Still cradling the Buneary, Naira glanced at the data sheet clipped to the end of the bed; apparently the Buneary was a He, and his name is Inlé-roo. She chuckled at the odd name, making Inlé-roo look at her questioningly. She smiled at the bunny and placed him back on the bed, pulling the soft covers up and tucking them around his small body.

Once Naira was sure the small Buneary was asleep, she told the Chansey she was heading out front to the main lobby. The round pokémon nodded and continued re-wrapping the damaged rose of the cringing Roselia. When she got to the lobby she saw a sandy-haired trainer sitting on the red couch, apparently waiting for something. His young eyes brightened when he saw Naira, focusing first on her dark green hair, and then on her pale face.

She raised an arched eyebrow. "Welcome to the Hearthome Pokémon Center; how may I help you?" she asked, using the specified greeting for nurses.

He looked at her pleadingly. "Um, ma'am, I'm new here and I was hoping that you could help me." He took a few steps forward towards Naira, hands held out like he was begging. "I need to get to the Contest Hall; I'm supposed to meet someone there." He added as an afterthought.

Naira thought for a moment of the patient Pokémon in the back. "Just let me check that I'm not needed, and I will gladly help you." She replied, deciding to take pity on the lost trainer.

After the boy nodded in reply she headed to the back to find a Chansey. The first one she found was wheeling a cart down the hall towards the ward she had previously been in. Stopping the Chansey, she confirmed that there was nothing she was needed for at the moment, and was back on her way to the lobby area. Figuring it would only take a half-hour at most, she considered leaving her jacket, but when she thought about the heavy clouds she decided to take it anyway, just in case.

As she stepped into the lobby the boy smiled at her. Apparently he was ready to go; he was just putting a slim cell phone back onto his jeans pocket.

"My friend just called from the Contest Hall, and said he'd meet me at the halfway point," he looked her nervously in the eyes. "Will you still take me there?" He asked, sounding as nervous as he looked.

Naira was a little miffed that his friend probably knew the way here and didn't come get him, but she agreed to escort the trainer to the meeting point anyway; after all, it wasn't his fault he didn't know the way to the Contest Hall. This city was somewhat overwhelming to people new to it.

The two exited the comfortable pokémon center into the oppressing, damp air. It felt like it was going to rain soon, and the beads of condensation already started to form on Naira's waterproof jacket. Every twenty or so feet were streetlights, creating overlapping circles of light and deep shadows just out of their range. The boy, who eventually identified himself as Kevin, attempted to start conversation and soon enough they were talking about pokémon.

Kevin had a Kirlia, the only pokémon he owned, which he excitedly sent out upon Naira's request. Curiously though the Kirlia only looked dully at the trainer, then at Naira, not showing the initiative to dance; Kevin brushed it off, saying it had recently been sick and still wasn't up to par lately. Naira accepted the excuse reluctantly, knowing that Kirlia would only act so if its Trainer were truly unhappy, but let it slide to avoid awkward moments.

Kevin slowed down a couple of minutes later, saying that his friend said something about meeting him by this building. Naira glanced around the immediate area. True to word, they were at about the halfway point between the center and the Contest Hall. She felt somewhat uncomfortable waiting here in the dark; although she had some fighting experience it wasn't the best protection when so many people had pokémon. Just because a person had a pokémon didn't mean they had good intentions.

Both Kevin and Naira were fidgeting after about ten minutes, Kevin was continually muttering and Naira nervously glancing around every few seconds. Just as Naira was about to suggest that she just take Kevin to the Contest Hall they heard a low voice from a nearby alleyway, and it was calling for Kevin. Kevin's face seemed to light up, so it must have been his friend; Naira followed as Kevin hurried to the alley.

Naira stepped into the alley, one she recognized to cut through to the next street, and tried to see Kevin's friend. He was in shadow but he looked to be a few inches taller than her 5'6'' height. Kevin walked over to him and they exchanged what was assumed a low greeting, before facing her. The tall one took a step towards Naira, and something twisted in her stomach; she was getting a bad vibe from this guy. Not one to be rash, Naira only took a step back, instead of running out of the alley and back to the Center. She barely had time to regret it.

Before she could scream, the stranger had one hand over her mouth and nose, his other arm around her shoulders. The traitor Kevin was standing behind her, holding her still and keeping her from backing out of the alley. She started to struggle, to kick and thrash, but that only made them hold on tighter. Her vision was starting to black from lack of oxygen when she felt a sharp pinch on her neck, and saw the glint of a needle as it was removed. She barely felt her blood start to trickle on her neck before she went numb and lost her remaining strength. The only thing that kept her from sliding to the cold ground was the tall stranger, who was now holding her limp form against his side.

Naira finally blacked out a moment later, and between them the kidnappers carried her deeper into the city. Not a soul saw them.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:(1/17/09)** Still asking for reviews, and always for constructive criticism, so please help me improve!


	2. The Change

Disclaimer: I don't own pokemon.

**A/N:** Come on people, I know you're reading this! Please review it! I need to know whether I should continue writing it, or just scrap it. As you read this, keep in mind I am still in the introduction process, and the action will start to take place soon.

/-/-/-/-/

There was much activity tonight in the brightly lit and sterile lab. About a dozen people in white coats were rushing to and fro, and for good reason. They had "acquired" a new specimen just an hour ago, and they were all eager to start their newest experiment. There was a wide assortment of chemicals sitting in a shelf in front of a hospital-like monitoring machine, which was directly above a steel table. The table had sturdy manacles corresponding in the area where a person's wrists and ankles would be, and they were to soon be used again.

For months now, this group of rogue intellects had been successfully mutating people into part-pokémon hybrids. It had taken many years of research, and some stolen information, for them to perfect the process, (and the gods knew they had to dispose of many bodies as well) but their work was finally paying off. Several of the specimens had survived the morphing process, and there was a smaller mortality percentage attached to each new hybrid they created. To date, they were keeping more than a dozen live specimens.

"Why?" You may ask? No, these intellects did not want a group of super soldiers to win them world domination, nor did they plan on their morphing project being made public anytime soon. They simply wanted to see if it would work, combining DNA that was so alike, yet so different. They wanted to test the boundaries of these new beings; their fighting abilities as compared to pokémon, their resistance to elements, and their mental stability after the transformation. Human curiosity, just some say it was taken too far.

The scientists had just finished preparing the area when the two field agents returned carrying the new subject. They had picked well; the teen appeared to be in good health, and the perfect specifications for the newest test. They laid her down on the table and then stepped back, leaving the scientists to their work. They first injected a fluid into her neck to reverse the effects of the drug the field agents had given her (so its residual effects wouldn't interfere with the process.)

After waiting a few minutes the girl, Naira (even though they didn't know her name) began to rouse from her sleep. As soon as this happened the scientist preformed a quick physical on her to make sure she was in fact healthy, and once proving the fact correct, injected her with a cocktail of chemicals to put her into a coma. This step was important, as they eventually found, because if they were awake when the transformation took place, they would either die, or go insane from the pain. They stripped her of her clothes (they would just get in the way during the change) and covered her with a sheet after she was attached to the table.

Then all of the chemicals they had set out before came into play. Working like a well oiled machine, the scientists quickly injected three doses of one of the chemicals. It was a special enzyme that would start to attack the amino acid chains in the body, the DNA. A carefully timed ten minutes later they grabbed the vial containing the pokémon DNA sample. This they injected directly into the bloodstream through the neck. The introduced pokémon's DNA would replace the missing links in the human chain. Then the intellects added a special touch; a virus-like catalyst. Once one cell with the pokémon DNA was introduced into the host body it would readily attack any of the cells it encountered that were not hybridized. This ensured the success of the experiment.

By this time they were done injecting chemicals into the girls' body, physical changes were already starting to appear, and the scientists were carefully taking note of them. Over the next few hours most of her body started to take on a grass green tinge, but for an area from under her chin, covering all of her chest and stomach (except for a single green band across her stomach, looking like a belt of sorts) was turning brilliant crimson-red. Her five fingers seemed to meld into each other and then split into two-fingered talons, with a thumb-like claw emerging from the hand as well. Her feet underwent the same change, and turned into two-toed, almost talon-like, appendages. Naira's legs rearranged in proportion; her feet and toes growing elongated, and her femur shortening, so if she were to stand it would give her legs the specific shape for climbing and jumping. Then small and smooth overlapping scales started to grow over her skin, matching the color they grew over. Finally, the scientists heard a ripping sound, and watched as a long, thin leaf emerged from the back of her head and grew to the length of her lower back. Three more leaves emerged from each of her wrists and grew from there to about the length to her elbow. All the leaves were a dark emerald green, just a shade lighter than her shoulder length hair.

They continued to observe her in case she underwent any more changes, but after two more hours there appeared to be no more changes taking place, so they approached and examined the completed specimen. They discovered that the scales were very smooth to the touch, and were not easily removed. She also had two more emerald-green leaves emerging from the area of her tailbone, somewhat acting like tails, and they were not able to be removed. The leaves were all razor sharp, and actually cut one of the overzealous intellectuals when he brushed passed one. They checked her eyes, and saw they were now slanted, and larger; the pupil and iris taking up a very small red and black slit compared to the large yellow part of the eye.

This thorough examination continued for many more hours, the scientists careful not to miss the slightest detail of the hybrid's being. They took samples of her blood, which had turned an odd dark green—probably due to the grass type she was now, as well as some of her human hair, to see how far it was mutated from its original state.

Her case file was officially started once her new DNA proved stable, and she was put into the specialized observation cell attached to the lab. The cell was solid, steel enforced concrete on three sides, and the last wall held the heavy steel door and very thick one-sided glass. The scientists could observe without being observed. Inside the ten by twelve cell was a small pallet to serve as a bed, a variety of berries and meats (to see what the hybrid's preferred diet was) and a bowl of water. The rest of the cell was bare of anything that could possibly hurt the subject, or be used against them in some way.

The intellectuals injected her with the chemicals that would reverse the coma she was in, and all that was left for them to do was to wait for her to awaken.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira woke to severe pain, all over and in her body. She couldn't move, as it felt her skin had been flayed from her flesh, and then reattached covered in acid. She tried to push the pain away, and by focusing on a single spot in her mind she was able to forget the physical pain of her body, instead trying to remember what had happened. She remembered going to work, and helping the boy Kevin, and then the stranger person and the ambush…she cringed. What had happened?

She opened her eyes slowly, and then closed them again immediately. Everything was oddly colored, in shades and hues she had never seen before. From her brief glimpse she saw a light source, but instead of the usual pale yellow light it seemed to give off a cacophony of colors. She could see all the flaws in the apparently "flat" walls because of the way the light hit them, each flaw being somewhat discolored, but she couldn't understand how she could tell they were flaws. She opened her eyes and saw that she was not hallucinating, and she really was in a cell on the floor.

Naira rolled onto her stomach and then tried to stand, but instead fell back down because her legs felt odd. She caught herself on her hands, and happened to look at the now-alien appendages. She fell back onto her backside to look at her hands, or more accurately, claws. They appeared to be both strong and dexterous, and she flexed them to make sure they were actually hers. She watched in horrid fascination as they moved precisely in the way her hands would.

Loathe to look at the rest of herself, but knowing she had to, she let her eyes trail over her new body. Her entire body was covered in smooth, grass green scales, with the exception of the crimson ones covering her chest and stomach. She noticed she wasn't wearing clothes anymore, and would have blushed, had it felt completely natural; the scales covered everything anyway. She was disgusted and confused when she saw her reflection on one of the walls (the reflective window), and slowly stumbled towards the alien being on her new legs. She touched her new hand to her scaled face, and then fell to the floor weeping. She had not been a person to like society before, but as she took in the distinctly pokémon and human characteristics she knew she would never be able to fit into a normal human life again.

Many thoughts raced through her head: Where was she? _What_ was she? Who did this? _Why did they do this_? She crawled over to a corner and huddled tightly into the crevice with her face hidden behind her body. Naira continued to weep until she exhausted herself and fell into a fitful and twitching sleep.

All the while the intellects were recording every moment of her actions from behind the one-way glass.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N: **Well, how is it? Any guesses what she is? I think I made it obvious enough. Please review!


	3. Instincts

Disclaimer: If I owned pokemon, would I be writing this on fanficton? Or would you be seeing this on TV?

**A/N:** Thank you very much for the reviews! Especially, I want to thank Foxyjosh for adding my story to the C2 "Transformation and pokeomorph stories." A couple of you guessed correctly at what she is, and it is revealed formally in this chapter. Thank you to my other other reviewers (Bleached Roses, Getto-Kunoichi, Angel-of-Twilight13, and Ri2) and I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira awoke from her fitful sleep very groggy and still in a little pain. She tentatively looked down and saw that she still in fact had scales, and could feel her eyes watering at the thought. _Now is not the time for tears,_ she thought to herself as she braced herself against the wall to stand.

She wobbled slightly but was able to stand on her new feet fairly steadily after a moment, and proceeded to try walking. It was different, but it was as easy as walking had been before her change. After she was sure she could stand and walk she did the next thing that came to mind. She looked around the room, and (unconsciously scenting the air for clues) she was drawn to a peculiar spot on the reflective wall, one that seemed to stand out as a flaw in her new vision. She approached it curiously, and they suddenly lashed out with her legs in quick repetition, kicking the spot. It left a caved in crater in the wall, right on the door.

Unknown to Naira, the scientists behind the door were in a panic—some were recording her actions with a worried look, and others were running for the guns containing tranquilizer darts. They stood at the ready, with guns pointing at the morph behind the glass. To their surprise, however, she just turned away from the glass and sat down, apparently losing interest. They wearily sat their weapons down and continued observation.

Now that Naira had gotten over the shock of kicking the door, she reasoned that it must be the instincts of whatever pokémon she was. She had no clue as to what she was; all she knew was that she was a grass type reptile, but she didn't know of any in Sinnoh fitting that category. She was disappointed when she figured it was native to another region; this really was an alien body to her. It was almost as if whoever did this was making her feel alienated on purpose.

Coming to that thought Naira was drawn back to the reflective wall, and figured out what it must be. She saw it on a cop show once, the one sided mirror glass. That meant that there were probably people watching her every move, and she was nothing more than a _thing_ to be studied for them. She turned her head sharply towards the part of the wall she had kicked in. _Maybe if I…_she didn't need to continue her thought as she found herself lunging through the air at the one broken spot.

As the angry morph hit the glass large cracks splintered from the point of impact. The scientists were terrified out of their minds at the thought of it getting out into the lab, so they once more took up their tranquilizer guns and stepped back from the glass. Even those recording backed away from the glass as the hybrid continually rammed her shoulder into the glass. There was very little damage done to her, but the glass continued to break down; an innumerable amount of spider-web fractures breaking its surface.

The reflective properties of the glass were breaking off, and that only encouraged Naira to hit it harder when she saw the people's terrified faces. She recognized guns in some of their hands, close to the glass, but all she wanted to do was get out, to get at them; she was lost in an instinctual rage. She was getting close to breaking the wall and could feel it giving into her weight every time she rammed against it. The razor sharp leaves on her arms were standing out, stiff and sturdy, ready for something Naira didn't even know. She again backed up, and with one final charge she broke through the barrier, a shower of the glass accompanying her.

Of the twelve scientists in the lab, four had been standing closest to the cell aiming the tranquilizer guns, and that was their first mistake. They were too close to the glass, and when it shattered at least two of them were hit by the flying glass and dropped their guns. The other two were too slow to shoot Naira when she burst from her cell; this made them easy targets to the instinct-controlled hybrid. The sharp leaves of her arms cut into their flesh, showering the hybrid, and the nearby surroundings with their blood. The other scientist stood shell-shocked in horror. Not even the insane Sneasel-morph had managed to get out of the cell.

Naira stood still a moment, basking in great feeling of being the predator as was her nature; a lazy grin on her face revealing her slightly sharp teeth (something the scientists had overlooked.) Then came the coppery smell of blood, and it snapped her out of the bloodlust stupor she was in. She looked down at herself and saw her green scales stained with the dark red of the human's blood, and then up to the terrified faces of the other intellectuals. They all just looked at each other in a horrified fashion for a moment, before Naira felt a sharp sting in her side. She slowly looked down and saw a bright feather-tipped needle sticking from her abdomen. Then she sluggishly raised her eyes to the person holding the sedating gun. It was the stranger that had accompanied Kevin in abducting her.

"Bastard," Naira hissed as her vision started to blur, her voice holding a new sibilant undertone. Before she again blacked out she saw the scientists in the background quickly taking notes on what she had done, and couldn't help but smile because she knew she had killed at least one of them.

/-/-/-/-/

The next time Naira awoke she was in yet another cell. This one was different thought; it was much smaller and was lit by a caged, solitary light bulb. The walls looked very strong, of concrete and steel. There was also a heavy steel door on one of the walls, and it too looked securely in place. The floor was concrete as well, probably to prevent any escape by burrowing. There was a lone pallet for a bed in one corner, and a small bowl of water in the opposite. The rest of the small cell was completely barren.

Naira sighed; it didn't look like they appreciated her getting out of her other cell. She couldn't help but smirk, though, as she recalled their shocked and terrified faces. They had ruined her life, so she was going to ruin theirs. Forget the whole "Revenge is a dish best served cold," thing, she wanted her revenge still fresh and bleeding. Her stomach rumbled at the thought; obviously her food metaphor was reawakening her hunger. She saw there was no food, so she instead lifted the bowl to drink, but stopped short as the liquid touched her lips. She smelled something wrong about the water; it was bitter and tangy, not at all how water should be. Naira threw it across the room as she realized they had spiked it with something.

_If that's how they want to play the game, I'll do even better._ Naira amused herself with thoughts of what she was going to do when they returned. There was no doubt in her mind that they would return; she scented them all over the small cell, and the slide marks made by the door were well worn. No, they would return soon enough, and when they did she would be ready. She went and curled up in a corner, purposefully shunning the small pallet, to feign sleep.

/-/-/-/-/

It was a little over an hour when Naira heard the sound of someone coming closer to the door of her cell. She heard a small sliding sound followed by a clunk, and figured it was the small latching window on the door that allowed sight into her small prison. The grass morph was sure to stay still and keep up the pretense of sleep, while she was intently listening intently to what was going on. She heard the hushed voices of a few, maybe three, people standing right outside the cell.

"I can't believe it got out; not even that crazy Sneasel managed to get out of there!" one voice exclaimed to the others.

"Well believe it," said a hard voice. "That thing killed Davis, after all. Now can you see why I wanted to increase the security?" He sounded harsh and angry. _Funny,_ Naira thought, _He must have been friends with this Davis person._

The first voice sounded like they were about to argue back, but was cut off by the third voice, finally entering the conversation. It sounded somewhat familiar. "Drop it. We need to do our job, and _I _personally, don't want to be here any longer than I have to." There was a brief silence before they spoke again. "It looks like it's asleep," he said in a disgusted tone. Then there was a clank as the heavy-duty bolts holding the door shut were released.

Naira was almost overcome by the instinct to attack when she heard the men's weary footsteps land on the concrete floor. The way they walked, even though she could only hear them, reminded her subconscious of prey items. She had to restrain herself from attacking them now so she would be able to get her planned revenge on them. They came closer and Naira could smell the cloying scent of fear wafting off one of them, and was glad her back was to them for she could not contain her sadistic grin. _Target acquired,_ she thought in a very sadistic way, though she kept perfectly still.

The hard voiced one spoke quietly to the others. "Grovyle, huh? That's new." Apparently he had not been in the lab when she was transformed, which meant that there were more than a dozen scientists left.

Naira heard them come closer still, and her muscles tensed in anticipation of what she was about to do. As she felt the presence of one of the three get within four feet of her, she suddenly kicked off the wall to spring at the scientist, her leaves standing at the ready, seemingly hungry for the feel of fresh blood on them again. Something unexpected happened though, and Naira was hurled back into the wall with a solid _thump_.

The one she tried to attack was none other than her forever-tormenting capturer; the one whom she had escorted Kevin to, the same one who had shot her with the tranquilizer. Naira staggered to her feet only to be thrown down again, and this time saw that in one hand he had an electrified Tauros prod and in the other a solid nightstick. He was glaring at her hatefully and giving her the look that just _dared_ her to try and rise again. She stubbornly stood again, and this time blocked the hit from the nightstick, only to be jabbed in the side with the prod. She let out a shriek as she was electrified and again dropped to the ground. This time she didn't rise, sprawled on the floor, occasionally twitching as the residual electricity flowed through her.

He stepped over to her and kicked her in the side, making her reflexively curl up to protect her stomach; his peers making no move to stop him. He lowered his face close to hers and snarled "Be good. You'll live longer."

At first it seemed Naira didn't hear him, and he was about to leave. Then her shockingly yellow eyes snapped open and her arm-leaves sliced across his face in a quick motion. He recoiled in pain, holding his hands tightly to his face. "Your own fault," she said sadistically as his blood dripped onto the cement floor.

His peers grabbed him and hurriedly dragged him out of the Grovyle-morph's cell before any more damage could be done. She made no move to get out as they slammed the steel door in place, a contented smile on her face. Naira knew she didn't kill the man, and that this could cause greater problems in the long run, but she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment. She again grinned as she saw the prod and nightstick lying on the floor of her cell, and adeptly grabbed them and placed them in the corner she would sleep in.

Exhausted and in pain from the scuffle, Naira sat back down in her corner to rest. She knew that she wouldn't be getting out anytime soon, but the least she could do was make all the intellectual's lives living hells. She curled around the abandoned weapons with a hiss as they touched her tender stomach, but would not let them go either way.

Naira Gray, at that moment, swore to make all those involved suffer for taking away her life. _They will pay! _She vowed as she drifted once more into a light doze.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N: **I made this one a little longer than the other two chapters, and I think unless I am told otherwise they will all be about this length. I would really love your opinions and comments on the story, and if you have any questions feel free to ask them. Please review, as they inspire me and generally increase the speed in which I write.


	4. Observation

Disclaimer: Do I even need to say it? I do not own pokemon.

**A/N:** Another chapter! Whoo! Thank you everyone who reviewed, it really helps me write this faster when I know people read it. Please enjoy the newest installment of _Spiteful Mutation_.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira was awoken from her sleep once more by the sound of the door of her cell opening again. She sluggishly rolled over to look at who had entered this time. It was a new one, Naira realized, sitting up and facing the scientist, but still careful to keep her stolen weapons out of their sight. For a moment Naira didn't understand why they had entered alone, until she saw the telltale shadows of others waiting just beyond the door. She crouched down and hissed at the new scientist here to torment her; a female of medium build and short brown hair.

Naira was somewhat confused that they would send in an unarmed person into her cell, and refrained herself from attacking out of curiosity. She cocked her head to the side and stood up straight, crossing her arms in the "impatience" pose. Her tail-leaves flicked in irritation as the scientist merely stood there with a smug look of confidence on her face. It was driving the Grovyle-morph up the bloody wall! How could they be so confident so close to possible death?! When it looked like she wasn't going to move Naira feigned a charge at the overly-smug female, jumping back at the last moment.

_That made her flinch,_ Naira thought smugly as the scientist startled. The hybrid was no longer amused, though, when the snob resumed her position in watching the morph.

Under normal circumstances Naira would wonder why she was angering so quickly and why she was so easily provoked. Maybe if she was more used to her instincts she would have realized they were testing her, and that she was playing into their hands. They wanted to see how far they could push her before she would snap.

The one scientist in the cell was only slightly scared of this aggressive morph, for she was one who dealt with the Sneasel-morph, and everyone knew that that one was insane, and had been that way since his transformation. That was right about the time that they found out that if the specimens were not in a coma when the procedure was done, they would either die or go insane. The Sneasel had been the only to survive before they started using the coma technique.

Now was not the time for remembrance though, and there was a job to be done.

Naira started to feel a pressure in the back of her head the more time that passed, yet the smug woman was still there. Naira was able to hear an annoying ringing noise and pressure started to build to a painful level. She held onto her head and stumbled backwards as she started to lose her balance. The Grovyle-morph screeched in pain and lunged at the scientist; this time it wasn't a feint. The angry hybrid bowled into the woman and a sickening crunch could be heard as the lady's arm was smashed between the morph and the concrete wall.

The pain and pressure hadn't stopped though, and the bleary-eyed Naira stumbled out of the cell to try and find the source. Outside the cell were more scientists, but Naira couldn't make out an exact number because her eyes were unfocused. Without thinking, she latched onto the nearest one with her claws, and something in her brain clicked into action. His colleagues tried to remove Naira, but she held fast onto her victim. The unlucky scientist struggled and grunted in pain as a green aura surrounded him and the morph; he passed out a second later when his energy was drained.

Naira stood restored before the unconscious man, clueless as to what had happened, but they did not give her time to ponder it. From out of her cell came the woman whose arm Naira had broken, and she used the recovered prod to hit the morph in the back of the head with a swift _crack_. The morph fell to the floor unconscious from the blow.

The first priority of the scientists was to restrain the hybrid in case she woke up, and they took care of this by binding her arms to her sides with thick leather and also putting an iron shock-collar around her neck. While two stood guard over her, some of the others assisted in getting the two injured to the medical bay for help. Every one of the scientists was now having doubt as to if this particular morph wasn't more trouble than she was worth.

With nothing else to do but watch the unconscious morph, the two left to supervise the experiment struck up conversation.

"Did you see what it did to Matthews? What happened?" Asked the guard slightly further away from Naira; a tall, balding man of his late thirties.

"You know, it looked familiar. I think it was probably Mega Drain." Replied the other; another tall man, this one with thick blonde hair and looking his late twenties.

"That sucks, how do you think he'll do?" the tall one said halfheartedly, staring intently at the unconscious morph.

"I think he'll be fine, but he'll have one hell of a migraine." The other chuckled nervously; he too was looking at Naira as if he were looking at an alien, which in truth wasn't far from correct at that point.

After a few minutes the two guards were joined by three more intellectuals to assist in moving her back to the lab. Because of the morph's previous escape they had not had enough time to study her thoroughly enough; in truth, they had just scratched the surface of their planned research when she escaped. This time they would be careful to correctly lock her up. It seemed that for some reason the Grovyle instincts had a great influence over her actions; they were neither normal human behavior nor were they the unpredictable actions of the insane.

Now was the time for intense study.

/-/-/-/-/

_I'm getting really tired of waking up in strange places_, Naira thought worriedly as she found herself in a concrete _pit_. Pit was the only word there was to describe it; it was a round room that was dug into the floor. It had to be at least twenty feet deep, and had a thick glass covering over the hole at the top.

What really made Naira angry, though, was that there were people at the top looking down at her, and also the fact that she had an uncomfortable metal thing around her neck. They appeared to be taking notes, glancing at her every other second, and making another note. She felt frightfully exposed and would probably have given her left arm to get under a cover of some kind. This feeling, of course led to her new instincts kicking in and for her to lose partial control again. Only this time it was different; she realized the Grovyle instinct for what it was and tried to fight it to keep her rational head.

Her internal struggle did not go unnoticed by the scientists on watch, who promptly called over the others and started to intently watch her. This was not the first time they had witnessed this occurrence in their morphs, as a matter of fact they just witnessed it about a week before when a girl was morphed with a Buneary. Before the girl was morphed she was known to be rather serious and tended to just let things happen as they would, but after the procedure she turned more cheerful and bubbly. She didn't appear to like the changes and tried to fight off her instincts, with only some success. To date they would occasionally see her grooming herself subconsciously, and then snap out of the instinct-induced state, looking very peeved.

That was only one example of the conflict between the human and pokémon nature.

It seemed that Naira lost her internal struggle, finally succumbing to the overpowering nature of the Grovyle in her. Her eyes grew sharp and gained the predatory glint that only the reptile species could perfect, and she scanned the intellectuals with a calculating look. The hybrid started to pace in the pit like a caged Persian, never letting her eyes leave the scientists above her, but never faltering in step.

The continual pacing was starting to affect some of the scientists, or maybe it was the look she was giving them, but they were starting to lose their nerve. There were a few who were unaffected, and they had a good idea of what she was doing.

"Don't keep eye contact, you ninnies, it's using Leer." One of the more experienced scientists exclaimed, frustrated at their naivety.

Almost immediately the others averted their gazes from the large yellow eyes below them. They knew that the hybrids were usually able to use attacks associated with their specie, but they were unused to the more indirect "stat changers." It wasn't very often that the morph had the ability to reason to the point of indirect combat, but then again, some of these things depended on the nature of the specimen.

As both a punishment and a test, the scientist in control hit the button that controlled the shock-collar that Naira was now equipped with. She fell to her knees and clutched at the center of pain, the band around her neck. Her limbs started to spasm, but the pain left fairly quickly after that, and she tried to regain her footing. It took her a moment, but then she was once more standing steadily on her two-toed and claw like feet.

The morph gave a good, hard look at the scientists through the glass, and the human part of her mind started to formulate a plan. She continued her pacing as if nothing had happened, a slight limp being the only sign she had been hurt, but that quickly disappeared as well. The hybrid had her head down and her shoulders hunched as she continually walked the same path in carefully measured paces.

It was lulling the watchers into a false sense of security.

After a few more minutes of quiet pacing, Naira suddenly stopped and let out an earsplitting Screech that had them all holding their heads in agony. Holding their heads, they didn't notice that the Screech was being used as a distraction, and Naira had already put in plan what to do. The morph, still mostly controlled by instinct, sprang against the sides of the pit, using each jump as leverage to reach a few feet higher. As she reached the top she spun in midair and delivered a heavy kick to the glass roof, but to her disdain it didn't even crack.

She landed at the bottom of the pit and immediately looked up to the shocked faces of her watchers. Although she had not gotten out, they were still startled at her capacity of thought that was required in staging such a trap. They looked at each other and the same thought raced among them: "_It's ready for a battle._"

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:** What do you all think? Did I go too fast for proper development? I'd really like to know, so please review!


	5. There are Others?

Disclaimer: No, I do not own pokemon.

**A/N:** Ok, I'm pretty mad because I uploaded this yesterday but it, for some reason, got deleted. It sucked, but here's the chapter anyway, so enjoy it.

/-/-/-/-/

The scientists had had a bit of trouble getting Naira out of the pit and ended up resorting to shocking her with the collar long enough to get her arms and legs bound together, but after a few minutes of hissing and growling she quieted down enough to be moved. This time, oddly enough, Naira was awake when she was being moved to the new location; they had made no attempt to inject her with anything. It was still worrisome _how_ she was being moved, though.

Her arms were bound to her sides with thick leather, and her legs were bound together in the same fashion. After that she was secured to a cart, which they proceeded to roll down the hallway towards and unknown destination. It was very unnerving to be pushed along without any control, and Naira subconsciously started to test the strength of her bonds.

The hallway was wide enough for six people to walk abreast, comfortably, and was very brightly lit. So much so, in fact, that Naira had to make a real effort not to squint against the fluorescent beams attacking her eyes. It didn't help that the floor and walls were covered in highly polished white linoleum. Overall, it was too bright for the natural forest-dweller, and she started to protest her treatment by thrashing (as much as she could while restrained) on the cart. There was no move to stop her, though, as there was no chance of escape at this point.

Naira once again stopped her struggles when she saw it was having no affect on her captors, and forlornly sat on the cart to observe once more. Looking around she noticed black orbs attached to the ceiling every ten or so feet; it took her a moment of though but she was horrified when she recognized them as cameras.

There was no way to escape when they could see her every move!

Disdained, the morph turned to look at the people wheeling her to who-knows-where. Her spirits dropped when she saw at least a dozen following behind, most of them giving her looks that suggested nothing good was going to come from where they were headed. She recognized only a few of them, and felt very overwhelmed by the fact that there were more of these people than she originally thought. Now she was sure that they numbered somewhere over two dozen; not good.

Suddenly there was a change in atmosphere; although the hallway was as bright as ever, there was something different. Every few feet along the hall were heavy steel doors, looking much the same as hers had. Each one of them had a clipboard attached to the outside with information about the occupants on the laminated paper. As her cart passed the doors she would occasionally hear banging on the doors, heavy hits that echoed loudly in the open halls.

Her cart finally came to a stop in front of a heavy steel door, to the left was only one more cell, then a barred off corridor, and to the right was the direction they came from with it's seemingly never-ending line of cells. Pinned on the front of the door was a clipboard, like all the others, filled with information on the occupant. What was on the paper made her blood run cold in her veins:

**Name: Naira Gray**

**Sex: Female**

**Age: 16**

**Date of Birth: January 1**

**Occupation: pkmn breeder (student)**

**Blood Type: AB-**

**Skin type: pale**

**Eyes: gray-green**

**Hair: green**

**Height: 5'7"**

**Parents: Faust Gray and Lauren Gray (deceased) **

**Residence: Cottage on Route 209 (East of Hearthome)**

**Morphed into: Grovyle**

**Type: Grass**

**Diet: Carnivore, occasional Omnivore**

**DNA Condition: Stable**

And the information continued to run on, everything about her, including where she was born and where she had attended school. They knew everything, and that showed to Naira that they had planned to take her, and it wasn't a random kidnapping; they targeted her for this. What disturbed her most though, was one little bit of information: it said that her mother, Lauren Gray, was deceased. When Naira left home her mother was sad, but still very much alive. The hybrid couldn't understand the death, or was it even right?

_They could be lying,_ she tried to tell herself, but she knew it was a lie. The way they presented the information, and the way they were, she knew it wasn't a lie. Her mother was dead.

The shell-shocked morph gave them no trouble as they pushed her into the new cell, removing the restraints as they did. She stumbled on legs numbed from shock and poor circulation to the furthest corner of the cell. Sliding down the wall, her scales scraping harshly, she held her head in her claws and wept for her loss. Although she never really liked her mother, she was still saddened with the news of her death.

She didn't know how long she sat crying but after some time she heard a voice coming from the left wall of her dimly lit cell. Naira looked intently at the spot after wiping the remaining tears from her eyes, and saw the discoloration synonymous with a weak spot. She lightly padded over to the spot and saw a deep, inch wide crack in the cement, running all the way from her cell to the next cell over. Peering in through the crack was an almond shaped brown eye.

"Hello?" said a melodious female voice

"Who are you?" Naira responded in her sibilant tone, her voice cracking slightly.

"I'm Trien Armicist, nice to meet you!" she said in a bubbly voice, then growled something to herself that Naira couldn't hear.

"Excuse me? Could you repeat that? I didn't hear," Naira asked, confused.

"I said, 'My name is—'"

"No, the other part," Naira cut her off.

"Oh," she sounded embarrassed "I said 'I hate this damn happiness,'"

If Naira could judge anything by her voice, she seemed to be blushing.

"So, what's your name?" Trien asked.

"Naira Gray," the Grovyle-morph said shortly.

There were a few moments of silence before Trien spoke up again.

"So, what are you?" She asked in seemingly the most casual voice there could be.

"Excuse me?" Naira exclaimed, sounding slightly offended.

"Well, they morph everyone who comes in here, I think, and I reasoned they did that to you as well." She explained hesitantly. "The jerks made me a Buneary," she fumed as an afterthought.

"They made me some grass reptile thing; I think they called it a Grovyle." Naira said passively.

Now that Naira thought about it, Trien's sudden mood shifts made sense to her. If she had a serious nature to begin with, the natural happy-go-luckiness of a Buneary would cause some problems in reacting to things normally. _At least I know __something__ about one of the pokémon around here,_ Naira thought sardonically as she was reminded once more she was a "non-native" pokémon specie.

"Ooh!" Naira's thoughts were interrupted by the Buneary-morphs exclamation. "I know what Grovyle are! They're the second form of one of the starter pokémon given out in Hoenn! I used to live there before—" She cut herself off from her train of thought and got very quiet. "Before,"

"Before you were taken." Naira finished for her.

"Yea…" Trien said softly. "You know, I came here to start my pokémon journey. I could have started years ago over in Hoenn, but I wanted to wait, to come over here. Then as I'm coming over on a cruise with my friend Glailie, oh I wish I knew how he's doing, I fell asleep and when I woke up I was part Buneary." She sniffled slightly and got quiet.

"Well," Naira started, figuring she might as well share her story "It started a few years ago, when the time came for most children to start their pokémon journeys. Not me though. My parents didn't like pokémon much, especially my dad, and they wouldn't let me get one. But I loved pokémon, and I knew I wanted to work with pokémon the rest of my life." She paused to phrase the next part of her story. "So I decided to become a pokémon breeder. For the next couple years I studied the best ways to care for pokémon, in secret of course, and helped both wild pokémon and the passing trainer.

"Then one day a few months ago my father caught me tending the wounds of a wild Machop, the poor thing had a huge gash down its side, and he told me to 'Get away from that filthy thing.'" The anger in Naira's voice was clear now. "So I told him that I was going to be a pokémon breeder one day. He told me no. So I packed up and left for Hearthome City because my uncle had a cottage nearby he would lend me. Since then I had been doing odd jobs around the city for money, but I worked at the pokémon center as often as I could.

"I don't know how long ago, maybe a few days, a boy came to the Center." Naira's words were becoming sibilant sounding the angrier she got. "He said he needed help getting to the Contest Hall because he was meeting a friend there. I was bored, and feeling helpful, so I agreed to help him to the halfway point where his friend was supposed to be. When we got there, there was his friend waiting in the alley for him, and being foolish, I followed him. They ambushed me and then I wake up in this place," She actually hissed as she gestured "With scales and leaves growing out of me."

When Naira finished her story they were both quiet, contemplating their predicaments.

From what Naira had seen of the outside hallway, there seemed to be quite a few more morphs in this place, and very tight security to boot. It was hopeless to try to stage an escape, much less en masse. From what she knew of wild pokémon, which was quite a bit, there were usually massive conflicts when too many of different species in the same area. Most especially if there were predators and prey in the same area, or even two predators; after all, instinct led them to fight for the best food supply. It was getting too grim to think about that topic, so Naira pushed it out of her mind.

"Hey, Trien?" The Grovyle morph asked.

"Yes?" she returned

"How long have you been in this place?" Naira queried.

"A few weeks, I think," she answered uncertainly.

"Have there been escape attempts?"

"Oh, yes. Quite a few." The Buneary morph said sadly.

"They didn't work, did they?" Naira asked glumly.

"No, but one came close. A Pachirisu-boy managed to short circuit the controls to his door and nearly made it out. He was caught by the lab, though. After that they started using manual locks on the doors."

"Did they…?" Naira asked wearily.

"Yeah, they killed him. Sent it through speakers so we all could hear, telling us that that would be our punishment if we were caught." Trien said, her voice flat and lacking emotion.

"And yet they still keep trying, even after that," Naira finished, a sad smile on her face.

"That they do. You're planning something, aren't you?" Trien had the tiniest glimmer of hope in her voice.

"I might be," Naira replied, but was cut off from any more talk as she heard something in the hall.

"They're coming!" Trien exclaimed, "We can't let them know we've been talking; quick, get away from the crack!"

Unbeknownst to Trien, the glint of Grovyle instinct had returned to Naira's eyes as she heard footsteps stop outside her door. This time she tried something different: as she heard the clank of the manual lock coming undone, she hid in the dark corner _closest_ to the door. When one peered in because he didn't see the captive, Naira rushed him, slamming her palm of her clawed hand into the side of his face.

He landed in the opposite corner with a heavy thud, blood and the occasional tooth coming freely from his mouth. Naira turned to the door in preparation to run for it, but was confronted with something that made her stop dead in her tracks. A large and intimidating Drapion stood blocking her way. The purple scorpion-like pokémon was glaring at her balefully, its fangs dripping venom and its claws at the ready should she try to run. Naira was caught as for what to do, so she tried the first thing that came to mind: she tried to leap over the 4'3" pokémon, but the combination of the low doorway and the large pokémon prevented her form making it.

Naira crashed to the ground as the Drapion's pincers threw her back into the cell, the poisonous creature clicking and growling. A voice outside the cell ordered the pokémon to restrain her, and Naira tried to the best of her ability to avoid its pinching claws, but to no success. The high level pokémon firmly grasped her upper arms in its dual claws and forced her out the door where her captors awaited.

With the powerful pokémon still restraining her, Naira was forced to follow the numerous people through the previously barred off corridor to a new destination. This trip took far less time than the one on the cart, and the surroundings were different as well. While still brightly lit and full of security cameras, there were no cells. Instead there were numerous labs, full of recording equipment, chemicals, computers, and more scientists. Once more it was confirmed that there were more people involved than could be expected for something she assumed to be secret.

A few more minutes of walking led the party to a very large and sturdy door. Waiting outside the door were two people who appeared to be bodyguards; both of sturdy build with strong muscles showing through their shirts.

"We've been waiting, what took you so long?" One of the guards snapped, sounding impatient.

"Don't snap at us, we had to find the Drapion for this one, and it still broke some rookie's jaw." The leader of the group snapped back.

The guards merely scoffed, but opened the door anyway, heaving the whole time under its immense weight.

The morph couldn't help but gape at the room, and then shudder at what her being here suggested. It was a battle arena, but not one for the official League Battles; it was unmarked by boundaries. The floor varied between hard packed dirt, to loose sand, and even mud in some places, and the whole place was ringed by observation points already occupied by the intellectuals.

Those who escorted her now ignored her, leaving the Drapion to restrain her until they were ready. It was only then that Naira saw another morph on the other side of the arena, this one held by a dangerous looking Infernape.

Almost directly parallel to Naira was the Sneasel-morph. His lithe male form was completely covered by fine ebony fur, though whether it be by decency or demand her was wearing a pair of loose and tattered pants. He had a golden, oval orb on both the center of his chest, and the center of his forehead. What used to be hands were now paws, with two vicious, rending claws each. There was a messy mop of black hair on his head, and out of it sprung a catlike black ear on the right, and a long reddish feather on the left; his eyes were sharp and predatory, and also suggested that something wasn't quite right with his mind by the way they constantly darted around. Add to that three long reddish feathers acting as a tail, and you had the bane of many a morph.

He looked to Naira and gave a maniac's grin, revealing sharp fangs and his willingness to kill. Naira was snapped out of her fear-induced stupor when she heard one of the observers yell "Fight." As one, the Drapion and Infernape released their respective morphs and scurried away. Naira was still staring like a Stantler in headlights as the Sneasel morph willfully charged at her, bloodlust written on his entire being.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:** **I cut it off at that point because there will be a pretty long fight scene, and I don't know how you guys feel about long chapters. **Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed it and will leave a review. I also hope that this partially cleared up the issue you stated earlier, BFoS, about the DNA and such.


	6. A Challenger Approaches

Disclaimer: I don't own pokemon, and for that you all should be thankful.

A/N: Well, this chapter took long enough to write. I have a perfectly acceptable excuse, too. -holds out arms; attached by the teeth are quite a few plot bunnies-. It would be easier to write a fic if I wasn't getting so many more ideas for others. Anyway, enjoy!

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The Sneasel-morph approached with incredible speed, his upper body almost parallel to the ground below him with his claws extended at his sides. Nothing more than a dark streak across the light sand, he impacted Naira with his shoulder and sent her crashing into the mud after a short flight. The dual dark/ice type stood back a few feet with his arms crossed, watching Naira with a critical eye as she struggled to rise from the thick muck.

Naira rose to her hands and knees shakily and coughed some of the mud out of her mouth as she tried to stand. She could tell now that this wasn't going to turn out well, but her pride wouldn't let her give up so quickly. It's not like she would be allowed to give up anyway, not with the people observing the fight.

She regained her footing, but was once again knocked down, this time landing out of the mud and on the hard dirt floor. She was quickly growing tired of being thrown around the arena like a rag doll, and this time when she rose to her feet she immediately jumped to the side, narrowly missing the speedy Sneasel-morph. She turned towards him only to see him grinning openly, before charging her again, this time with his claws at the ready. She dodged again and tried to counter, slashing with her razor sharp leaves, but they only met empty air.

Naira didn't wait around to be hit again, instead sprinting full speed across the arena, finally stopping with her back to a concrete wall. She noted with disdain that her opponent seemed to match her high speed equally, and was upon her only a second after she was at the wall. He smirked at her, his crimson eyes revealing, surprisingly, no malice towards her. _He looks, _Naira thought disbelievingly, _He looks like he's __enjoying__ this._

"Come now, stop running," He said in a surprisingly _sane_ voice "It's much more fun when you fight!" And he charged at Naira once more.

The Grovyle-morph, being one who valued her limbs, did the only thing she could to keep from being impaled by her opponent's claws; she retaliated. The Sneasel-morph seemed to smile as Naira ducked the first blow and tried to kick his legs out from under him. He had much more battle experience though, and he nimbly dodged the other morph's strong legs, and then put his type advantage to use.

Naira's eyes widened in shock and pain as her foe's ice covered fist slammed into her gut, covering her whole front in frost. She fell back into the concrete wall, her claws grasping at her chest in an attempt to relieve the intense pain caused by the ice. It felt like the ice was draining her strength, and she vaguely remembered that grass types were weak to ice. She seemed to be having a harder time keeping her balance as she again readied herself for battle.

The other morph seemed mildly impressed that she could still battle, but once more smiled as he took a battle pose, his claws gleaming in the simulated sunlight that filled the arena. Then he suddenly stopped, his claws dropping to his sides as he drew closer to Naira, cocking his head and looking curiously at her face. He looked like he was searching for something, before smiling and again drawing back, much to the Grovyle-morph's confusion.

He muttered something under his breath, sounding suspiciously like _"Now that won't do,"_ to Naira. He looked her in the eye once more before smiling a chilling smile and quickly slitting his upper arm open with his own claws. The dark red blood ran down his smooth black fur, before falling to the sand, leaving a spattering of crimson on the tan dunes. He looked back at Naira, knowing she had been watching the blood fall, and apparently knowing the reaction based on his smug look.

Naira was no longer holding her chest in pain, quite the contrary; her claws were now tight fists at her sides, the leaves on her wrists standing stiff and razor sharp. Her dilated eyes were focused on the blood continuing to fall on the sand, pupils following each falling drop of the crimson liquid. She was tense and apparently no longer having problems standing. It seemed as though she were in a trance…

He placed his paw over the self-induced scratch, cutting off the flow of blood to the sand. As soon as he did, Naira's gaze snapped to him. She no longer appeared to be in a trance, but she no longer appeared to be herself either. The dual type knew what he was doing, as he had done it many times before. He had overruled Naira's conscience and triggered the predatory instincts of the Grovyle by letting blood.

"Now the fun begins!" The Sneasel-morph exclaimed in a disturbing voice, now sounding wholly insane.

/-/-/-/-/

The scientists had been keeping careful note of what was happening in the arena below them, and needless to say they were shocked by the turn in the battle. While the majority weren't quite sure what happened, they saw that the dark type had done something to get the grass type to battle, but they were curious to know.

While a good portion of the group continued to watch the battling morphs through the tower's thick windows, a smaller group went to the back of the room where the surveillance equipment was set up. While it may seem like it sometimes, these people were far from stupid; they had after all found out how to _make_ these hybrids. At the moment they were reviewing what had occurred between the two morphs as they were up against the far wall, in the dune portion of the arena.

After a bit of rewinding and fast-forwarding they finally found what they were looking for. The Sneasel had realized something, leading him to cut himself in order to draw his opponent into the match. He seemed to know the trigger that brought about the violent behavior of the predatory morphs: they had observed him doing this many times before, most notably against a Gabite-morph whom had been unresponsive to the usual taunting and attacking.

/-/-/-/-/_Flashback_/-/-/-/-/

_The stocky Pokémorph pressed his back flat into the wall in an attempt to get away from the clawed menace that was the Sneasel-morph. His blue and red hide was covered in scratches, some so deep they would surely scar. The fin on his back was mangled and now hung in painful ribbons along his spine but still he did not fight back; his own pick like claws were not stained by his opponent's blood._

_The same could not be said about the dark/ice type. He wore a maniac's grin on his face, revealing his sharp fangs. His once white claws were stained crimson by the Gabite-morph's blood, and he seemed not to have a scratch on him. It appeared that he wasn't satisfied with something though, and he slowly approached his opponent in the same manner of a curious child._

_He looked into the wide eyes of dragon morph before smiling and holding his left paw before them both, and slowly drawing one of his claws across it, making sure the other morph could see the blood flowing. At first the Gabite looked on in morbid fascination, but soon his eyes grew glassy and his pupils dilated. It seemed as if the dragon type had gone into a trance; he was perfectly still except for his eyes, which followed the slight movements of the ebony paw before him._

_All the while the Sneasel was grinning in the disturbed manner of a serial killer, even as he removed his paw from the other morph's sight. He kept his smile as the now blood-lusting dragon charged him, slashing wildly in an attempt to hit the dark type. While he was dodging all of the hits still, he seemed to be enjoying himself even more, and some would go so far as to say that he took pleasure in causing others to act against their mind's will._

/-/-/-/-/End Flashback/-/-/-/-/

The scientists shuddered as one when they remembered the results of that battle. In the end, the Sneasel-morph had to be restrained by three of their specially trained pokémon. The Gabite-morph wasn't so lucky though. He bled out from his wounds while still in combat with his tormentor. They didn't even get the chance to try and save the specimen; it had just suddenly dropped dead mid attack.

When that fact once more dawned on the scientists, the news spread quickly throughout the room. They didn't want a repeat of last time: even though they severely doubted the dark/ice type would kill the other, they didn't want any specimen to die. If it appeared that the morph was in the state of _Bloodfury_ there wasn't much of a chance it would stop fighting before the death of either its opponent, or itself.

They immediately called for pokémon to be brought into the arena, to stand in waiting so that, if ordered, they could stop the fight. They were all fire and fighting types. Charmeleon, Magmar, Infernape and Blaziken stood out the most, though there were numerous Machoke and Primeape scattered about. They all stood in a loose perimeter about the fighting morphs, looking relatively calm; they had done this before if their aloof demeanor said anything.

The battle continued on even as the morphs started to show signs of exhaustion. The Sneasel-morph, who had previously been dodging every hit, was now slowing down to the point where he had been nicked several times by his opponent's claws. Naira was tiring as well; even in her Bloodfury state she was no longer hitting as aggressively, and she was taking more time recovering from each hit she took. They both looked like they would drop from exhaustion soon enough.

/-/-/-/-/

The Sneasel-morph was thoroughly enjoying himself; this was the most fun he had had in a long time. He dodged the kick the Grovyle-morph sent his way, and retaliated with a quick slash of his claws. It hit across her back as she was recovering from the missed kick, ripping out a line of scales and biting into the flesh below. Her dark, greenish blood splashed over the ground and onto the Sneasel. He grinned, as it looked like he finally hit in a good spot; she had been mostly unscathed thus far, sans a few light scratches on the arms.

So proud he was with the first real blood-letting, that he let his concentration slip for but a brief moment. That was all Naira needed. He looked up just in time to see the enraged grass type land a solid kick across his face, sending him tumbling to the ground a few feet away.

She approached almost immediately, crouched down with her teeth bared, claws ready at her sides. She stood over the fallen morph, for all intents and purposes looking like she would deal the final blow. Naira snarled once more as the other simply opened his eyes and smirked in a knowing way, letting his eyes drift to the side, looking over her right shoulder.

Her own eyes widened as she felt something hit her from behind, pushing her to the ground and snapping her out of her Bloodfury trance. She looked to the Sneasel-morph only to see that he too was being held down: a large Blaziken had flipped the morph onto his stomach and was pressing his knees into the dark type's shoulder blades. Naira managed to turn her head enough to see that she was being restrained by the same Infernape that had restrained the Sneasel before the match started. She growled and struggled but to no avail, the only result being pushed harder into the solid ground.

"Don't fight them," her opponent intoned "It's just the end of this match. They won't hurt you if you stay still."

Naira looked over at him in disbelief; he was talking to her civilly after beating the crap out of her. It made no sense, but then again he was obviously insane, so it didn't matter anyway. She was going to say something in reply, but when she turned her head again the Infernape pushed her face into the dirt. She growled again and struggled, but the bastard just singed her arms to hold her down.

She could hear the heavy footsteps of the human scientists coming towards her once more, but the voice of the other morph once more stopped her.

"Don't bother attacking them…not now anyway. Soon enough they'll get it," He was looking directly at her when he said this, a morbid smirk on his face. "Call me Kael; I'm sure we'll meet again."

Naira was prevented from responding by once again being shoved into the dirt, though this time it was also accompanied by a sharp pain in her right arm. She hissed in pain and looked over, just in time to see one of the scientists removing the needle from her arm. She started struggling again as she heard Kael laugh insanely; he too had been injected with something and was now on the verge of breaking free from the Blaziken's grip with his thrashing.

She heard a thud as Kael hit the ground finally succumbing to the tranquilizer he was given, but it only made Naira more intent on staying conscious. She could feel her eyelids getting heavier, but refused to close them, and glared intently into the eyes of the closest scientist.

They had started to smirk, but it quickly turned into a grimace as a wad of spit hit them in the eye. Naira smirked to herself before struggling once more, even though she could see there was no chance to escape. With a sigh she passed into unconsciousness, going still under the restraint of the Infernape.

The buzz of chatter that issued from the group of scientist while the morphs were being removed from the arena was unusual. Usually it was silent when they left to continue their other tests and research, but something unnerving was taking place. They sounded…excited. These people being excited could lead to nothing good for the morphs in their charge.

If Naira had been conscious at this point, she would have surely been worried.

/-/-/-/-/

A/N: So, how'd I do this time? It didn't turn out exactly how I would have expected, but I think it's still pretty decent. Please **leave a review**, so I'll be more inspired to write!

(Rambling) So, "Kaeleni", how's it feel to be kicked in the face? And yes, your character was kicked in the face, go back and look, you'll find it. Damn slavedriver, making me write faster.


	7. Erebos and Nothing

**A/N:** Hiya everyone. I know it's been a really long time since I updated, but some things came up...anyone who'se checked my profile lately should note the bolded message at the top. I hope this will please you all (or at least satisfy you for the time being.)

/-/-/-/-/

Deep within the confines of the Pokémorph lab was something peculiar, even to those who worked there. Hidden in the furthest corners of the underground lab was a very solid door, guarded by cameras and only accessible to those with the correct pass-code and fingerprint scan. Very few passed through this door, and those who did would not speak of what lay inside. There was an air of mystery surrounding the whole area.

The mood was changed though, as a foreboding figure approached said mysterious door. He lifted his hand to punch in the code, his fingers moving quickly in the way that suggests habit in an action. When the confirmation tone sounded he placed a confident hand on the identification panel and the door obligingly slid open. It slid closed equally as silent after the man stepped in.

With measured, quick steps, he walked to the far end of the large room, mostly shadowed but for the soft glow of computer screens along one wall. These shadowed walls contained all of the possessions of the people brought to the lab. He stopped and stood before the screens, his eyes quickly scanning the many display faces, occasionally lingering on one in particular. Unconsciously, his left hand rose to his face, gently rubbing the bandage that obscured the wound below. When he noticed what he was doing he sneered bitterly and dropped his hand.

He was known simply as Erebos, and was, contrary to what most of the scientists thought, one of the brains that started their little "program". They didn't often realize that it was important to choose the right person to become a hybrid, and so he was a field agent, in direct contact with those to be, and those that were, part pokémon. He was one of the few with constant access to this room.

Erebos focused his attention back on the screens before him. There were over a dozen, some showing the scientists in the labs observing DNA of the hybrids or going over the recent records. More though, showed the hybrids themselves. At the moment, all of the hybrids were in their cells, and each cell had a tiny camera hidden in the corner.

Most of the hybrids (_As usual, _Erebos thought with a sneer) were simply staring at the wall or sleeping. A few appeared to be crying, but that was of no care to him. He focused on the Sneasel's cell for a while, but the hybrid was simply staring at the camera with the most disquieting expression; Erebos shuddered for a moment, the screams of when _that_ hybrid was changed coming to mind.

His eyes quickly moved onto another specimen of interest; a female that had been infused with Milotic DNA. This one was interesting because she, for a reason yet undiscovered, had changed to become more physically similar to the Milotic than expected. She had kept her human face, but it was softened by the large soulful eyes of the species, and the red antennae-like appendages from above her eyes gave an otherworldly appearance. Her slender, willowy body stayed much the same from the waist up, but below that her body was that of a long, sinewy serpent, complete with blue and red scales, ending in the fanlike tip.

It was currently being researched as to why the changes had gone this far; they did not only affect her appearance. She now had the gills that Milotic possess, enabling her to breathe air and water, as well as the aura of calm beauty that is exuded from the pokémon. Some of the other scientists believed that she had a pre-existing genetic mutation that caused the extensive change, but so far the tests were inconclusive.

Again Erebos let his eyes drift to another screen, and his cold eyes narrowed when the reached the cell of the newest arrival. The Grovyle hybrid that had attacked him, that had surely scarred his once-handsome face. Again his hand traveled to the bandage on his face, and he felt the phantom pain that comes with remembering an injury.

He growled down in his throat; this hybrid was well on its way to being considered "expendable". Already it had caused more damage than most of the other experiments, combined. He briefly considered sending her into the Arena with the Sneasel again; it was very possible for the Grovyle to die there, there was little doubt that it would have died the first round had there been no intervention. Then again, a dose of cyanide would allow the scientists to study the intact corpse…

His eyes narrowed further as his attention refocused on the screen before him. The Grovyle had been leaning against one of the walls, a very pained look on its face, and then suddenly it was on the floor, apparently in the grip of a seizure. Erebos observed for another moment before reaching over to a speaker next to the screens.

"Retrieve specimen _Grovyle _from its cell and take it to observation," He ordered calmly, in a chilling voice.

He continued to watch the newest hybrid thrash around on the floor of its cell until the scientists removed it a few minutes later.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira groggily opened her eyes and slowly pulled herself up off the floor of her cell. She looked around blearily for a moment, trying to remember how she got here, before the memories of her fight with the Sneasel-morph slowly drifted to mind. She remembered being restrained by the Infernape and being given the sedative, and…

"Kael," she said, recalling the other morph. What had happened to him? she wondered. _Probably taken back to his own cell,_ she thought bitterly, looking around her own darkened prison.

Naira rose shakily to her feet and was overcome by a brief bout of dizziness. Leaning back against a wall and grinding the palms of her hands _(claws…)_ into her eyes, she waited for the dizziness to pass. When it did, she had the most interesting feeling of floating, coupled with a pain deep within her head, but she passed it off as a bad reaction to the tranquilizer they had given her. Half walking, half stumbling, she made her way over to the deep crack in the side of her cell, connecting with Trien's cell.

"Trien," she called out softly, and was taken aback by her own voice. It sounded low and weak, keening like a dying animal. Shaking her head, she tried again, this time her voice somewhat stronger. "Trien, are you there?"

There was a shuffling noise from the crack, and the brown almond-shaped eye appeared again. "I'm here, oh Naira, are you ok?" Trien's melodious voice sounded deeply concerned. Naira was about to say that yes, she was fine, but that dizzy feeling hit her again.

"No," she said softly, but she was sure Trien could hear "I think something's wrong…I…I think I'm going to go lie down again." She leant up against the wall and moaned pitifully as it felt like a wave of fire passed over her. Swallowing down bitter bile, she started to take a step towards the pallet along the opposite wall, but was stopped by Trien calling out to her.

"I don't think you should fall asleep, Naira." There was a note in Trien's voice that made Naira look up. She narrowed her eyes to try and focus, but the floor seemed intent on sliding out from under her, and she fell back.

Watching everything in slow-motion, Naira could see Trien's futile attempt to help her, slim, dark fingers reaching through the crack in the wall. Everything snapped to real-time when she hit the ground, and suddenly, she could feel nothing. Although she was aware that she was lying on the ground, and she was aware of the taste of blood in her mouth from where she bit down on her tongue, she could feel…nothing. And then, there _was_ nothing.

/-/-/-/-/

Erebos strode quickly into the main laboratory, the one to which the scientists took the Grovyle, per his orders. The room was a hive of activity, with the occupants heading quickly in every direction, but most still clustered tightly around the restraining table in the room. From the sound of it, they had gotten the hybrid restrained, but it appeared to still be having seizures.

He pushed his way through the crowd, uncaring to the looks directed at him, right to the center of the cluster before the table. Grabbing hold of the nearest scientist's shoulder, he demanded to know what was wrong.

"We don't know," he replied curtly, shrugging of Erebos's grip. "From the looks of it though, the DNA has appeared to become unstable."

"Unstable in what way?" Erebos asked impatiently. Behind _this_ scientist he could see another, sticking a needle under the scales of the specimen's arm; the seizures stopped once the new medicine was injected.

"Have a look for yourself, Erebos," said a dark haired woman, easily moving through the mass of people in white lab coats. Her ice blue eyes shone cunningly from behind her black-rimmed glasses. This was Morgan, another founder of the "program."

She lead Erebos away from the now-still specimen over to a desk, on which sat a high-powered microscope that appeared to have a slide under observation. He looked at her in silent askance.

"A sample of specimen _Grovyle_'s blood," she said, a small smile formed on her pink lips.

Erebos lowered his eyes to the microscope, adjusted the focus, and then looked again more closely. A moment later he stood back and looked again to Morgan, this time with an eyebrow raised. A "did I just see what I thought I saw?" look was on his face.

"Chloroplasts," she said nodding "With what appear to be fully functional chlorophyll."

"It appears to be undergoing a mutation similar to specimen _Milotic_." Erebos stated, again looking in the direction were the scientists were massed. "What do you suggest we do?" he asked, not looking away from the crowd.

There was a small contemplative silence before Morgan spoke, and she did so with a lowered voice, carefully pitched not to carry.

"Induce a coma, and wait: We see how far the mutation goes. The specimen should be under constant observation, including vitals. We will miss nothing."

/-/-/-/-/

Naira didn't know how long she had been sitting here, looking at nothing. The last thing she remembered was seeing Trien's fingers reaching through the crack in the wall of her cell. Of her prison.

The nothing she was sitting in was exactly that: Nothing. No detail, no color, no nothing. It was there and not, palpable but as substantial as smoke. Distantly, she had the alarming feeling of time passing her by, but she continued to stare at the _nothing._

Finally, she dragged her mind and eyes away from the nothing all around her, instead looking at her arm with unfocused eyes. The verdant scales no longer looked so foreign, so alien. They felt right; strong but flexible, her own armor.

The thought struck her as odd, and her eyes screwed up in concentration, and by act of conscious decision she became aware of all the thoughts she experienced in the nothing.

She blinked and looked up, expecting to see the nothing again. Instead, she was startled to see a green, reptilian creature in front of her. It was watching her with sharp yellow eyes, the slit nostrils at the end of its snout widening as it seemed to scent her. Its mouth opened slightly, exposing rows of small-but-sharp white teeth, and a slight hissing noise followed the action. Naira saw the leaves attached to the pokémon's wrists and suddenly realized that _this_ must be the pokémon Grovyle, of which she was now part.

Looking at her own arms again, she was startled to see that she no longer had scales. As a matter of fact, she looked just like she had before she was abducted! Instead of bringing happiness, it brought a mysterious terror instead. Her hands were shaking badly; her weak, human, hands. The pale flesh of her arms was so soft, so easy to bruise, to cut. It was terrifying, so crushingly terrifying. She curled up in a shivering ball, her knees tucked up to her chin and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. Again, she looked ahead.

The Grovyle was still there, still watching her, seeming to appraise her. Its eyes never left hers, and slowly, slowly, it extended its claw out, resting it gently on her arm. Naira felt on her bare arm the cool scales of the claws, and wished again for her own. She would welcome again the change, anything, so that this crippling weakness and terror would no longer have to be endured.

The pokémon tilted its head to one side, as if listening to a far off voice, before it faded away, and there was nothing again. Naira at first felt such strong fear; she didn't want to be left here alone again! But then there was a wave of warmth washing over her, and as she watched scales sprouted out of her skin to again cover her in the beloved, protecting armor. Her hands once more became claws, and the razor sharp leaves again grew out of her wrists. Something was different this time, though. She brought her claw to her face and felt that instead of a human profile, her jaw and nose had reformed into a snout similar to that of the one she had seen on the Grovyle. She wondered vaguely why it hadn't hurt, but the seducing nothingness had again drawn her focus away, and again the sensation of passing time washed over her.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:** Well? How'd I do? I'd love to hear all your opinions, so please drop a review. Constructive criticism and insight are very welcome!


	8. Death and Change

Disclaimer: Nothing new...I still don't own pokemon.

A/N: Hmm, well, here's a new chapter, I hope you like it. Had a bit of a block for a while, and now I'm preoccupied with re-writing another story, but I'll try and keep this one more frequent with updates.

/-/-/-/-/

Erebos was once again walking past the long line of cells that contained the hybrids. After a month, the gash that was inflicted by the Grovyle had healed into a slightly pink scar across his tanned face. His hazel eyes were as hard and cold as ever as he stopped before the door of a cell at the far end of the row. Flanking him to the right was Morgan, looking as cool and detached as ever. To his left stood Kevin, looking slightly nervous, but resolute: behind them all was a rolling cart, meant to move a body, but at the moment vacant.

As Erebos opened the heavy door, Morgan let out a small sigh of disappointment. Kevin looked inside the dark cell, and immediately turned away, looking ill. In the far corner was curled a small figure, obviously dead. The light blue skin, which should have been slick by a film, was dry and starting to flake. The large fin/tail was shriveled like a dead leaf, and the orange sensory patches of the cheeks were drooped and dry.

Erebos was looking at the body and angrily muttering to himself. "Another failure. Why can't those fools see the importance of proper specimen matching?" Then he turned to Kevin, and said like a teacher would to a student, "Explain what went wrong with this Mudkip hybrid."

Kevin swallowed thickly. "His body type rejected the quadruped stance the species exhibits: the curvature of the spine could have compressed organs fatally." A look from Morgan urged him to continue, "In theory, this should have worked because of the—," here, he hesitated "—specimen's small stature. The expiration could also be blamed on inhospitable conditions. Mudkip are known, when at a very young age, to need a moist environment." He looked pleadingly at Erebos, who gave a barely detectable nod of his head; Kevin let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

Reaching behind him, Erebos pulled in the body cart and then lifted, with ease, the stiff body of the failed Mudkip hybrid. He started wheeling the cart back to the main lab, where it would be taken to the incinerator; Morgan and Kevin fell in step behind him. Kevin was lagging behind somewhat, as if trying to stay away from the body.

Unseen to Kevin, but not to Morgan, Erebos wore a look of disgust on his face; one that appeared as soon as he noticed Kevin's loathing to look upon the body of the expired child.

/-/-/-/-/

When Erebos returned to the lab with the body, a few of the scientists broke off from whatever they were doing to immediately take the expired specimen to the incinerator. The incinerator lay deeper in the underground compound, and was always lit for just such an occasion. As they hurried off, and Morgan and Kevin returned to their duties, Erebos slowly walked to room, checking progress.

First he stopped a man who, instead of a white lab coat, was wearing workable jeans, a white t-shirt, and heavy duty construction boots.

"How goes progress on the enclosure?" Erebos asked, not unkindly, and the man looked pleasantly surprised. It didn't hurt to be polite sometimes; you attract more flies with honey than vinegar, and all that. They work faster if there is some semblance of kindness, anyway.

"All goes well. The open area is complete; plants, trees and everything. We're still reinforcing the pens for the vicious ones," He paused, and his wide face held a contemplative look. "We managed the lake, extra camera's like you wanted. The lighting's still malfunctioning; we've replicated the sunlight, but the timer still isn't functioning correctly. Easily fixable though," He added, looking Erebos in the eye, fidgeting somewhat.

"Good job," Erebos said. The muscles at the side of his mouth twitched. It might have been a smile. "When do you expect the enclosure will be ready to hold the experiments?"

"Oh, any day now, I suppose." The worker said wistfully. "Week or so at most, I think. Like I said, we're almost finished."

Erebos held the man with a hard eye. "I want you to make sure that the aggressive specimen pens are _securely_ reinforced. The predators are dangerous, in case you have forgotten," he turned his head somewhat, the scar across his face showing plainly against his skin.

"Y-yes, sir," The worker stammered, blanching slightly. "They'll be secure."

Erebos nodded and continued on his way around the lab. Most were careful to keep out of his way; he had been quite prone to aggressive acts lately, no provocation needed.

He made his way over to the far end of the laboratory. It was again time to check on the Grovyle hybrid, as he had done every day since it had been put into a coma over a month ago. Any day, it seemed, they hybrid's vitals would settle down enough to be awoken, so active study could commence.

The area around the experiment was devoid of the activity humming around the rest of the lab. Everything was somewhat muted, with the exception of the steady beeps of the vitals monitor next to the specimen's "bed". The bed was actually a base of form-fitting gel that helped prevent sores from developing, not so much for comfort, but to save the time of recovery before more tests could begin.

Erebos did his routine walk-around, more from habit than actually observing anything. The reptilian-humanoid lay prone on the gel base, limp arms and legs restrained; precautionary for an unnoticed awakening (however unlikely). The body, although now covered in scales and more proportionate for an actual Grovyle, was still obviously female human at base. Present still after the latent mutations were the slender shoulders, and slightly curving figure of a woman in the prime of life.

He never focused long on the body though, for that wasn't what changed during the last bout of mutations. The facial structure had been dramatically altered, a snout formed out of the nose and jaw, and although not as prominent of the actual pokémon's, it still varied greatly from anything considered normal in a human profile. It amazed him sometimes just what the body could go through and _still not die._

Completing his circuit around the bed, he stood again looking into the face of the hybrid.

"Quite pathetic," he sneered, talking quietly to himself. In reality, the hybrid wasn't simply lying restrained on a bed in a coma: It was being studied thoroughly. Amazing as it was for a reptilian hybrid to have hair on it's head, it had been shaved off to place sensors on various places about the skull (although the forest-green hair was growing back, from between the scales, at a remarkable rate; four weeks after it being shorn off, it was already covering the small holes on the side of the hybrid's head, which were the modified ears). Various other sensors were placed over the body; some monitoring vital signs and some (attached over to major muscles) discharging small electric shocks to help prevent atrophy in extended coma states. What Erebos was directly referring to though, was the I.V. needle shoved into the crook of the elbow, supplying nutrients needed to survive. Remove that, and the specimen would die within the week, never awakening from the forced hibernation…

Again, his pondering was interrupted by the entrance of a scientist to the back area of the lab. Walking as quickly as possible, almost jogging, they spotted Erebos and made a beeline towards him. Giving a respectful nod of the head, he relayed his message:

"The new specimen has arrived."

Without a backwards glance, Erebos left the still form of the Grovyle-hybrid lying on the gel bed, the vitals monitor beeping steadily.

/-/-/-/-/

A young adult male was being carted into the transformation lab; he was unconscious with a puncture wound in the neck from where the needle had injected the sedative into his bloodstream. Those moving him to the restraining table were already administering the antidote to the sedative in preparation of the new drugs to be received. With the same efficiency as always, they undressed him and checked his vitals, before putting him into a coma and injecting the first chemicals into his system; one injection in each arm, and one at the base of the spine.

Once they were sure that the amino-eating enzyme had worked, the timed ten minutes, it was time to inject the new DNA of the pokémon, and a syringe did its job as the needle entered the previous puncture wound on his neck. It seemed to take no time at all for the physical changes to begin to manifest.

The first change was in his skin tone; it quickly paled from light tan to a chilling blue, as if he had been lying in snow for an extended period of time. His hands and feet turned a darker blue, as if frostbite had progressed to the point in which you lose the limb. The dark brown hair on his head fell out, showing fully the progress of his ears moving up slightly and elongating into pale blue diamond shapes.

A crown-like shape formed some time later, on his forehead, a deeper blue than his body but not as dark as his hands and feet, with a tassel-like growth (almost like a second, lower ear) forming on either side of it, looking very much like a cold-weather hat. Those too, ended in the frostbitten, navy blue.

The young man's facial structure also changed slightly, a much slower change than his skin color. His nose became small and black, wet looking and glossy against his pale blue skin. His eyes became larger, turning a solid navy blue, which would have been creepy but for the spark of life that could be seen glowing within their depths.

A tail sprouted from the base of his spine ever so slowly, almost mimicking in shape that of his new ears. That too, ended in the navy blue of his hands, feet, and tassel-like growths.

Nearing the end of the twelfth hour of change was when the fur started to grow; a fine coat of perhaps and inch or two, the same color as the skin which it grew from.

Erebos, having sat and observed the entire change, smiled to himself in a satisfied manner. Anything that lived long past the fifth hour was considered at least a partial success in his books.

/-/-/-/-/

In a cell far removed from the other hybrids, there was one being having fun.

Having frozen the entire floor of his small cell, Kael the Sneasel hybrid was ice skating. It was really more like skidding from wall to wall, crashing into the walls, than skating, but he was enjoying himself. At least, that's what it looked like to anyone watching from the camera in the corner.

Hiding under the apparent glint of madness in his eyes was something else; cunning, but also a deep sorrow. That was only if you looked deeply though, and few ever got close enough to look deeply without being maimed.

One wild spin across the ice had him against the wall, hands out to brace against the impact, an odd smile still plastered on his face. As he stopped against the wall, his eyes wandered to his left hand. He retracted the claws on his right hand, as much as possible anyway (such large claws couldn't be fully retracted under the skin without tearing), and uncurled his fingers from their almost-permanent fisted position, where they were protected under the claws during combat.

A slight sigh shook his frame as he traced the back of his left paw with the fingers of his right. Under the fine ebony fur were numerous terrible and reckless scars, which he traced lightly with his index finger, staring intently. It seemed so long ago since it had happened, when he was first changed and his claws got stuck retracted, the scars hidden and faded…

Kaeleni turned away from the wall, so he again directly faced the tiny camera. Holding his right paw before him, he curled his fingers and extended his claws: He was now the master of himself, and revenge was again on his mind.

With a grin sinister enough to make a Banette cringe, Kaeleni continued to skate around his small cell.

/-/-/-/-/

A/N: Alright people, now it's time where I ask you your opinions! First off, was this up to standards? I'm a little unsure about the beginning, but...eh. Also, based on what you've seen of Kevin (remember, he was the boy who lured Naira to capture in the beginning, as well) should I be merciful or not? Based on the feedback I get I can decide what to do with him. Thanks for reading, now please review!


	9. What Happened?

**A/N:** **Seven months. I can't believe I didn't update for seven months...Wow. Yeah, if you've read my profile, you know my pathetic excuses for not updating. But now I am, and that's what matters, right? Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**/-/-/-/-/**

Erebos was again seated at the far end of the laboratory, watching the two hybrids on the opposite beds in the small area. The Grovyle was still under, but the drugs had stopped being pumped and she would awaken soon. The newest experiment, the Glaceon, was mildly tranquilized and under medical observation; he didn't take to the morphing readily and the drop in body temperature sent him into shock. Still, he was starting to rouse, and Erebos was debating on giving him another dose of drugs to hold him under…

"Sir," It was one of the construction workers "The last of the Grand Enclosure was finished two days ago, and all the security passed final inspection today. We are ready to proceed with moving the first of them into their proper areas."

"Has the lead team been informed already?" Erebos asked lowly, gaze still leveled on the two comatose morphs.

"Just a moment ago, Sir," the worker said cautiously "Morgan said it would be in best interests to move the dangerous ones in first—" He was cut off by Erebos

"They are _all_ dangerous," he said aggressively, standing and turning fiery hazel eyes to the man. "_Never_ forget that," He made his way towards a small group of people nearby and led them out, towards where their captives were currently held.

As the worker walked back out of the lab, he heard Morgan's voice from the retreating group.

"Now let's go get the Sneasel…"

/-/-/-/-/

Naira struggled to push her way to consciousness; it seemed to take an eternity to free herself from the dark blanket that covered her mind. With consciousness, though, came awareness and feeling, and at the moment she wasn't feeling very good.

Her eyes were heavy and gummed up, as if she had been sleeping for far too long, or had been sick. She gave up on opening her eyes and instead tried to move her arm, and then realized her entire body was stiff and sore; the effort to move even her clawed hand was infinitely harder than it should have been.

She heaved a small sigh and decided to just lie there; that was, until she noticed a small noise that was most definitely _not_ coming from her. But it was nearby…how could that be? That whimpering…? But she was in her cell before, and Trien tried to help her…and then they came and got her…and the nothingness…and the Grovyle…

Her eyes snapped open, and although she couldn't move her head, it was elevated in such a way to allow her to see the occupier of the bed directly across from hers. Looking at her with terrified navy-blue eyes was another Morph, and it took her only a second to identify the ice evolution of Eevee, Glaceon. After a moment of close scrutiny, she decided it was male, but the rounded features of the Glaceon part made it hard to tell. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her head a fraction to scent him, and confirmed, that yes, he was male…and scared.

She opened her mouth to say something, but her throat felt so _dry_, only an airy, hissing sound came out of her mouth. The morph across from her started against his restraints at the sound, and tried to push himself deeper into the cold-looking gel bed he was on.

Confused, Naira started to say something again, but was cut off by a loud shout from the opposite bed's occupant.

"M-Monster!" He cried, and the shrillness of his voice clearly told the level of terror he was experiencing. In the main part of the lab, all movement halted briefly and over a dozen sets of eyes were turned in their direction. Naira continued staring in confusion as a cluster of five scientists broke off from the main mass and headed in her direction.

She let her head fall back on to the gel bed and groaned, trying to move her limbs and finding (not surprisingly) they were tightly restrained. Two of the cluster walked over to the Glaceon-boy, and they must have injected him with something, because he stopped whimpering. The other three stood over Naira, all with varying degrees of curiosity and mild disgust carved into their features.

"Should we call Morgan?" One of them asked the others, talking over her like she couldn't understand them. He looked familiar, maybe one that had been at her first transformation?

"Yeah, probably Erebos too; he's really interested in this one," the female of the group responded, looking at Naira like she was something under a magnifying glass.

"A bit too interested, if ya know what I mean," what appeared to be the youngest said crudely, only to be elbowed by the female.

"That's disgusting," she shuddered, but looked more closely at Naira anyway. "You shouldn't let him hear you say that; you might end up as one of these," Naira herself felt sick at that, and was getting more than a little annoyed at having this lady hovering over her. As if reading her mind, the scientist backed off, and called over her shoulder for someone to get Erebos and Morgan, and she didn't care if they were dealing with the Sneasel at the moment.

Naira swallowed thickly, trying to moisten her throat; her tongue (although that too felt different somehow) was sticking to the roof of her mouth. She was so thirsty, but would rather cut her tongue on her teeth and drink her own blood than ask for anything. That particular problem was solved for her, as two of the scientists, working together, parted her jaws (_wait…when did my mouth turn to __jaws__?_) and the third squirted some sort of syringe full of a fluid down her throat. She coughed and gagged at the strange taste and sensation, but the liquid had soothed her throat. It must have been spiked with something, though, because everything started to cloud over, and her tense muscles relaxed again.

Leaving her in her clouded state to attend the other morph, Naira was able to think again…not everything was clear yet. Something must have happened, some time must have passed…she knew it; she remembered the vague feeling of time passing while in the blank nothingness. That was still something to wonder about, for now she realized that while asleep, she knew of the changes her body had gone through…subconsciously.

There was also something else that worried her—if possible, more so than the actual reaction of outside society if she escaped. Now that she was like this, even if it was reversible (which wasn't likely), would she want to go back to being a normal person? In her subconscious, for that is all she could guess the nothingness was, she had felt so weak and defenseless when she was stripped of her scales. She could still hate the people for the pain, and for doing this against her will; for keeping her here. But could she hate them for turning her into something that made her feel stronger? The more she thought, the more sure she was of her decision. She wouldn't hate them for _her_, not _all_ for her anyway, but for all the people that must have died, or had their actual lives ruined by this…this torture.

That didn't mean, though, that she would stop trying to kill them.

And it was at this moment that her ultimate tormentor walked in, accompanied by an intimidating woman with dark hair, and icy blue eyes behind dark rimmed glasses.

/-/-/-/-/

Kaeleni growled deep in his throat, and slashed at one of the dead trees in his "natural habitat" environment that they set up. He had been counting on that cell, those routines of rounds, testing, and fights, and they foiled any plans he had set in one fell swoop! Damn them!

He sat on the outcropping of icy rocks and surveyed his domain; maybe a quarter acre of a very well simulated environment for a Sneasel (snow and ice patches, thin pine forest, the works)…and the sturdiest bars he had ever seen separating him from more of the icy environment. He could get his arm through the gaps, but nothing more. If he looked closely, on the most verdant portion of his habitat, he could see more areas simulating the natural environment, and more bars separating them into more habitats. In between each set habitat and the next were double bars, allowing the scientists to pass safely (_Or so they thought…)_ between each hybrid's habitat.

He noticed that some habitats appeared larger than others…in fact, most of the habitats were larger than his. How curious…were they maybe—?

"Oh! Look, they're bringing in someone else!" he muttered to himself, standing on his outcrop to see better; it looked that in the distance there was a large pond…or maybe a small lake. "How the hell did they build this underground?"

A small swarm of the _people_ brought in a girl that was more Milotic than girl and left her on the edge of the lake. When she regained consciousness, she appeared to look around before slithering into the water. Some time later (more than an hour he sat there unmoving, watching) they came again, and left either a Seel or Dewgong morph in the same enclosure.

Kael narrowed his eyes. What were they up to now? Judging by the construction of this place they had no care for saving money…why were they housing more than one to a cell?

How long he sat there watching only the cameras and the ones who brought food could say, but Kaeleni stayed on his outcropping and watched as more and more were brought in, some in single enclosures, some in double. There were never more than two housed per enclosure, but then again, he could only see so far. There was a haze in the far-away opposite side of the dome this Habitat was made in, but from the scents carried by the simulated wind, the fire types were over there.

No one had yet been placed in the enclosures nearest his domain, but he was almost positive that based on the size and environment of them, the area on his right would probably house two cold-dwelling hybrids, and the one directly in front would probably house a forest dweller…a _single_ forest dweller.

While he still was not sure of why they were housing two together for some, Kael was sure as hell why they were housing some alone.

The cells with only one inhabitant housed the predators.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira stared at her tormentor, trying to fight off the grogginess induced by the spiked liquid, but it proved to be too much and her head again fell to the supportive gel on which she lay.

"Erebos," said the lady-scientist that had treated Naira like a bug under glass "The Glaceon had to be put under again…he saw the Grovyle and reacted. Badly." Offhandedly Naira realized that her tormentor finally had a name. Erebos…how odd; didn't that mean dog? Her foggy mind chuckled a little bit at that, and she realized belatedly that she had actually laughed out loud (albeit, it sounded somewhat hissing).

Once more eyes turned to her, and she opened eyes that she didn't realize she had closed to see Erebos's face hovering over hers. She could see a shiny pink scar on his cheek, and again wondered how long she had been unconscious for the wound she inflicted to heal so much.

Then the fog cleared over her mind and she glared at him; tried to speak…and failed. Her mouth wasn't working right…_no_, it was working fine; it just couldn't form the shapes she wanted it to.

She growled once and concentrated on using her tongue to form the words rather than her lips.

"Get out…of my face," she hissed more than spoke…she cringed; it was so hard to speak…

Erebos said nothing, but raised an eyebrow and moved back a few steps, allowing his female companion to move to Naira's bedside.

"Welcome back to the land of the living!" she said in an out-of-place cheerful tone. It made Naira instantly nervous…and angry.

"What…do you…want—?" Naira hissed, out of breath from trying to speak. The woman smiled a bargainer's smile.

"What do _you_ want?" Icy eyes flashed behind the glasses.

"Up!" Naira practically screeched at the infuriating woman. One of the scientists from before chuckled, and something clicked in Naira's mind…there were tests before, and she didn't see them because of the Grovyle impulses. Somehow, becoming _more_ pokémon had given her a little more restraint instead of less over the instincts…at the moment at least.

Before she had realized it, the restraints were undone, and she allowed herself (reluctantly) to be helped into a sitting position, with her legs dangling off the side of the bed. Sensors and needles she hadn't even noticed where removed from her scales, or under them in the case of the needles. She sat there weakly, breathing hard and shivering, watching the scientists watch her. It was all very unnerving.

"Would you like anything else?" The woman asked, and Naira caught a certain scent in the air…it smelled…deceitful. Naira narrowed her eyes, but was unsure what that could mean…or even who it came from for that matter. She blinked, and realized she was hungry. Naira shrugged internally, the worse they could say was no. _They could starve you…_said a morbid little voice in her head.

"Food," she hissed quietly, and shivered again from the draft of cold air coming from the cool gel of the Glaceon's bed. "Clothes," she finished, and closed her eyes again as a wave of weakness swept over her.

Naira opened her eyes again in time to see the woman nod and a couple of the scientists leave, apparently to get the requested items. She opened her mouth so as not to breathe through her nose, in the hopes of blocking out all the clashing chemical smells that were so strong, but the first breath amplified the smells tenfold and she snapped her jaws shut with a _click_.

After a few quiet minutes Naira opened her eyes again and, bracing herself with her arms, stepped down onto the cold floor, her legs shaking as she leaned against the bed.

Erebos took a step closer; in his hand was a remote of some sort. At first Naira was curious, and then she recognized it as the control for the collar still clamped firmly around her neck. Her jaws parted and she hissed her displeasure before attempting to speak again.

"If you think…I can do anything…to h-hurt you at…the moment," she paused, breathing heavily; Erebos with his finger poised over the button on the remote. The other scientists in the entire room hushed, "Y-You are more…of a fool than…you look," She laughed weakly, the persistent hiss even evident in that.

An angry flush overcame Erebos's features, and his thumb twitched over the button. Naira braced herself for the shock she was sure would come…but it never did. She opened her eyes (_why did they keep closing?!_) and saw that the woman had her hand on Erebos's wrist, lowering it to his side. The errand-runners had returned; there was a small table with a few types of foods, and the woman held an over-large t-shirt in her hands.

Naira accepted the shirt that was offered to her and put it on quickly, thought it felt odd and uncomfortable against her scales, it did offer some protection against the chill. She looked over at the food offered and tried scenting it, but the chemicals in the room prevented her from smelling anything. She looked flatly at Erebos, whose face was still somewhat red from before.

"Is it…spiked again?" She didn't know why she was more comfortable talking to her tormentor than this woman; but the smell of deceit was in the air again, and it was only there when the woman was near her.

"If it was, do you think I would tell you?" He responded, equally as flat. He turned to his companion. "So Morgan, is it spiked again?"

Morgan looked between the hybrid and Erebos, some sort of realization striking in her eyes. She turned to Naira, no caution on her face, but the slight scent of fear mingling with the chemicals permeating the air.

"It is," she said shortly, and Naira sighed, her shoulders slumping more in her new slightly slouching stance. She shook her head and her eyes stung, but remained clear and focused.

"It's…a shame," Naira sighed, looking straight at Erebos, whose eyes had a fire blazing in them "I almost…didn't h-hate you," And the leaves on her arms stood firm and sharp as she leapt towards her tormentor.

He was expecting this, though, and sidestepped her lunge, shouting for the others to stay back as he jammed the dial up on the remote and activated the collar fastened around Naira's neck. She screeched once and fell to the ground, unconscious immediately in her already weakened state. He sighed and dragged his hand through his hair, then noticed the others staring at him and glared.

"Go put this one in the enclosure," he snapped. The others, all but Morgan, hurried to make themselves busy, a few coming in to take the hybrid to the new environment.

"Damn," cursed Morgan, her voice no longer as sweet as when she had talked to Naira "I thought that would work," She noticed a slight, odd expression on Erebos's face "What is it?"

"Didn't you notice?" he said, more than asked. His eyes met hers, and he was glaring daggers, but he also seemed pleased "Pokémon can smell fear; they can smell truths and lies. She can too," Erebos walked away before Morgan could say anything; but she had nothing to say anyway.

After all, they had already made people into pokémon; smelling deceit wasn't the strangest thing to ever happen.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira let out a pained cry as she regained consciousness again. She rolled into a sitting position and touched a gentle claw to her neck. Although she had lost quite a bit of her touch sensation in acquiring her scales, the tenderness around the metal band told her that some of them must have been scorched by the electricity.

With one claw still to her throat she looked around and was immediately confused. Trees? She ran her other claw over the ground to reassure herself. Grass? She dug her claws into the ground…it was actual ground; dirt. She couldn't be outside, surely…

She scented the air; there was nature scent, but also metal…and slight chemical smell. One look up told her what she feared: The ceiling was a large dome with a band of bright lights shining down, meant to mimic the sun. She looked through the bushes and trees, and could see bars, like in an old prison. She wandered shakily over to the bars, grasping the smooth metal roughly and pulling. They didn't even budge in the soil.

She sighed and slumped against the bars, one arm outstretched into the curious gap that separated her cage from another set of bars a couple feet away. She closed her eyes and let her arm fall.

Her eyes snapped open when someone grabbed her wrist; the hand was as cold as ice against her scales.

"Huh, I thought they had killed you. Guess not."

Naira looked up into cunning crimson eyes.

Kael.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N: Well, how was it? This was written in one sitting, and I think it's the longest chapter...I know it doesn't make up for the lack of updates, but /shrugs/. Oh, and I would appreciate everyone's opinion on this: Should the boy, Kevin, be allowed the easy way out? Or should he suffer? His fate is up to the responses I get.**


	10. The Grand Enclosure

**A/N: **Less than a seven month wait this time! If you want to know my (admittedly good) excuse for the delay, go read my profile. A couple new characters introduced this chapter, most of them will appear again, frequently. **Chapter 1 has been edited!** It's nothing story-changing, just some details that I missed, and makes that chapter a little more bearable to me (It was terrible before!). Yeah, I'll end this note before it gets too long.

/-/-/-/-/

Adicus was sure he was in hell. He just _had_ to be in hell…that monster in the bed across from his was proof enough of that, not to mention this torturous cold pain. _Why was hell so cold!?_ He shivered again and clenched his teeth as another curious wave of cold washed over him, his skin pulling tight, pulling the hair into standing.

Cold tingling covered his body, and suddenly his eyes were being pried open by latex-covered fingers, and a bright light was being aimed at them, one then the other. His teeth clattered together even harder, and indistinct voices were talking over him, but his eyes focused on the bed across from him, and he sighed that there was no green monster there anymore.

There was a pain in the crook of his elbow, and he looked in time to see one of the people remove a long needle…it left a trail of blood through the frozen, light blue fur there…_oh_. So the fur was still there, then. The frustration set in again as he ran his tongue over his teeth, finding the canines sharper and his mouth muzzle-shaped. He growled once, and was ashamed at how much like an animal he sounded, which only led him to become angrier and pull against his restraints.

"Calm down or you'll sleep again," A voice to his right ordered. Adicus snapped his head over and saw a woman with dark hair and icy eyes scribbling something on the chart near his bed. She called out into the main part of the lab for someone before hanging the chart back on the wall and crossing her arms across her chest.

Adicus was seething, but made himself sit still and watch all that was going on around him. In the main area (for this appeared to be an area cut off from the rest) there appeared to be at least a dozen people, most looking into various microscopes stationed about the lab. There was an indiscernible murmur of noise caused by the overlap of many voices, preventing him from hearing the actual conversations. He noticed a young man with medium-length sandy hair and wearing a short lab coat approach the small area where he was restrained, and dug his fingers (_Were they still fingers? _He looked down and saw three fingers and a thumb, all ending in short black claws; a paw-like hand) into the cold gel.

"Kevin," stated the woman; Adicus jumped at the sound of her voice "What do the techs have to say about the internal temperature regulation problems?" she asked, waving an aloof hand in Adicus's direction. Kevin glanced down at the Glaceon-morph and there seemed to be some amount of pity in his eyes, before he turned businesslike and answered the woman.

"They say that it has stabilized as much as it's likely to, and is no longer any threat to the expiration of the—" he glanced down at Adicus again, and Adicus saw the woman frown "the specimen."

"Good, then call up one of the teams; this one can be moved to the enclosure. Tell them…habitat **A/C-2-SV**. There is no second specimen yet, but have surveillance focus on the south-east end, the border with **L/C-1-EV**. There was an interesting reaction earlier, and I want to see if it happens again,"

The woman was looking over Kevin's shoulder, into the main part of the lab. Adicus tried to follow her line of sight, but was prevented from doing so by the restraints; he gave a vicious tug at them, and the crackling of breaking ice followed. For the first time, he realized that the cold chills he had been experiencing were from his fur freezing into icy needles as he became frustrated or scared...

He yelped in surprise when he felt the sting of a needle entering his arm, and as his vision blacked out the last thing he saw were the sorrowful green eyes of Kevin.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira jerked her arm out of the Sneasel-morph's grip, as if burned by the loose contact. Kael slowly retracted his hand back out of the dividing gap, wrapping his arms loosely around the bars and sliding to a crouch on the ground. He tilted his head to the side, scrutinizing Naira, his feather-ear twitching in what seemed to be a thoughtful manner.

A few minutes of this passed, and Naira took the opportunity to study the other, tilting her head as well and finding that the different perspective helped her see the finer details she would have missed otherwise. Up close, he appeared to be somewhat malnourished; through the smooth fur his ribs could be seen with striking clarity. Even the gloss on his fur, which appeared a healthy shine before, was actually just sweat and oils from his skin…Naira cringed, but then noticed the lankness of her own hair _(When did it get so short…?)_ and decided to forego thinking about the last time she bathed…

It was then that Naira noticed the odd way that parts of his fur stood up, and tilting her head again saw that his pelt was crisscrossed with scars, some old (like the ones on the back of his paw) and some that were recently scabbed over, knotting the fur and giving a somewhat scruffy appearance.

The synthetic wind shifted so that it was blowing towards her, and she caught a rich scent that for some reason made her mouth water and her stomach growl…and then she saw an open gash on Kael's shoulder, not even scabbed over yet…leaking _dark_, **rich**, _**blood**_…

Naira quickly turned away from Kael and swiped her claw over her snout to try and rid herself of that (_appetizing…)_ scent. A few deep breaths to regain herself and she turned back; he was still staring at her, his head tilted to the opposite side. There was a small smile on his face, one fang peeking out of the corner of his mouth.

"I bet it scarred," There was an odd tone of pride in that simple statement. Naira tilted her head in confusion, and Kael made a gesture with his hand for her to turn (she noticed that somehow, his claws were almost fully sheathed into his hands). She turned slightly and looked at her side, then looked up at Kael, still confused. He tapped one side of his lower back with his fingertips, looking at her and still wearing his half-smile. Naira lifted the hem of her shirt and saw that there was a line of scales that were a lighter green than the rest; she remembered that during their fight, Kael had slashed her there.

Scowling, Naira turned and stalked away from the bars, and didn't bother looking back to see if Kael was still at the bars. It didn't take her long to reach the opposite set of bars in her new cell, but she was somewhat surprised at the differences from one end to the other. Closer to Kael's area, the ground was barer; the trees were fewer and mostly pine, and somehow, there was a tangible difference in temperature. It was slightly more humid here, and while there were still pine trees, most of the trees here were the larger, deep-rooted variety. The thick underbrush also made quite a difference in ambience.

When Naira reached the new bars she was pleased to see no one waiting for her, although she was unsure exactly why she didn't want to see another person. She grasped the bars and pushed her snout through the space, opening her jaws and inhaling in hopes of catching a new scent. The cell on the other side of the walking-path looked very similar to this part of hers…but further on it appeared there was some open ground, maybe a field. Who knew, maybe she had another neighbor…besides Kael anyway.

She scowled a moment later when she realized the wind hadn't shifted; it was still at her back, blowing from Kael's direction. The idea of being upwind was one that was very unappealing to her, especially when she was so easily seen up against the bars. She stepped away and looked around for a moment before spotting a tall, sturdy looking tree a few feet down the bars. She stalked towards the tree, careful to rustle the undergrowth as little as possible, before slumping down onto the soft moss growing over the thick roots.

Idly scraping at the base of her arm-leaves (it appeared there was still a bit of dried blood stuck down there), Naira groaned when her stomach growled painfully. She glanced around in the off chance there was any food nearby; she couldn't remember the last time she actually ate anything, but was sure that it was before her transformation.

She scraped her claws along the moss, contemplating eating some of the leaves growing abundantly around her. Naira scrutinized the plant life and grimaced; none of it looked appealing to her. _At all._ Her stomach growled again, louder this time. She reached out and plucked a leaf off of one of the bushes and popped it into her jaws, chewing with some difficulty. Her teeth were no longer made for grinding up plants; she growled and spit out the shredded leaf.

'_It would be ironic,'_ she thought _'to survive the Change just to die because I couldn't eat.'_

Sitting under the tree, zoning out, Naira felt something similar to a nudge inside her head. Her eyes snapped back into focus, and then in quick, jerky movements she stood back from the tree; it was quite tall, and its branches reached through the horizontal bars that started about fifteen feet from the ground. Barely thinking, she crouched, and then sprung a few feet into the air. Grabbing on to one of the thick branches she swung first, and then clawed her way to the highest point of the tree, her head just shy of the bars.

She could see the false sun shining through the leaves, and as she parted them, she felt a warm tingling rush over her scales, and concentrating especially on her leaves. Naira pushed herself into more of the sunlight, stripping some of the smaller branches away so more light could shine through. She found a fork near the top of the tree and, propping herself against the branches, relaxed, staring out at the distant enclosures.

/-/-/-/-/

Erebos was just exiting the classified surveillance room when he was confronted by a heavily panting Kevin. The boy obviously had something important to say, but he was too breathless to utter a word. After nearly a minute of waiting, Erebos scowled harshly and Kevin about choked trying to rush out his words.

"Research Team C just discovered something amazing!" Kevin exclaimed between heavy breaths. "They're in Main Surveillance with some great footage," Erebos swept by Kevin, leaving the boy standing in the hallway alone, the door to the classified room slightly ajar…

Erebos entered the Main Surveillance room and was immediately greeted by the tech in charge of surveillance of the smaller, cement holding cells. Most of them were empty at the moment, but the ones that required _close_ observation were kept there.

"We've compiled quite a bit of information to be sure, but now we're positive of what we're seeing," The balding man began quickly, eager to share his information

"Please," Erebos gestured towards the televisions, where there were clips of some of the hybrids paused. The tech took the hint and hurriedly offered the man a chair before the screens. He then took the remote and played a few clips, one after another.

The first screen showed a very new hybrid, one of the newest, and a fun task for the specialists on prosthesis. He was a Furret hybrid who had lost his right foot shortly before his transformation; he was almost ruled out because of this, but the opportunity to take someone that no one would notice was rare, and he was taken anyway. This clip was shortly after he was fitted with a new prosthetic foot (one in proportion to his other, changed, foot); a Medicham was sent into his cell to retrieve him to go to the arena. For about a minute he was agilely avoiding the Psychic/Fighting type, until it landed a solid blow to his side. Then his pointed ears pressed flat against his head, and in his paw-like hands formed a shadowy black blob, which he then hurled at the Medicham. The pokémon staggered out at the impact and had to be recalled…

The next clip was an older one of the Milotic hybrid, in one of the few arena battles she had been sent in to. She was coiled in one of the muddy areas, her red and blue fanlike tail waving slightly beside her. The opponent was the now-deceased Pachirisu hybrid, who seemed to be reluctantly sending an electrical attack towards the Water type. The spark of electricity hit her, slightly diluted by the mud she was steeped in, and she tensed up. The Electric type seemed to be readying a Quick Attack, his bushy tail curling and uncurling behind him, but stopped and looked curiously at his opponent. Her eyes seemed to glow, and her tail and hands moved hypnotically; the Pachirisu boy collapsed into the sand a moment later, fast asleep…

Then there was the clip of the arena fight between two of the most aggressive of all the hybrids, the Sneasel and the Grovyle. First the Grovyle morph sprinting across the arena, the Sneasel morph close behind. When she reached the wall, the Sneasel lunged; she dodged and tried to kick him to the floor. He dodged the hit and swung a powerful punch to her stomach, his ice-coated fist covering her entire front in ice…

"Now these," the balding tech sighed, one last clip to be shown "We could never prove before, because the pokémon the DNA was taken from has died, or was taken from the wild and then released again." Erebos shook his head at the stupidity; was it really that hard to just capture the pokémon and keep them in Storage? The tech detected the mood souring and hurried on.

"But this is definite proof of what we've thought for so long," he gestured with the remote to the last screen "This hybrid was made from the DNA of one of the Charmeleon used for assistance in the Arena, and was bred to know a very particular move," he played the clip.

The hybrid was in one of the Mountainous areas in the Grand Enclosure, housed alone because of possible threat to anyone else. She was pacing in front of the bars, near one of the corners and right next to a camera skillfully hidden in a rock. Her thick red tail was swishing behind her, the tail flame burning brighter and more wild the more worked up she got. She swung her powerful claws at the bars, to no avail. Screaming a silent roar (there was no sound on the Enclosure film), she lunged at the bars, and suddenly blue flames spiraled around her, and she dented the ultra-powerful bars. This continued for many minutes (there were psychic pokémon nearby to knock her out in the off chance she escaped) until the flames suddenly fizzled into nonexistence, and the hybrid stumbled away, tottering to the small cave shelter but collapsing before making it inside…

"That was Outrage," Erebos said, impressed in spite himself, looking to the tech to see him nodding enthusiastically.

"We now have proof that moves that the pokémon knew, egg moves as well as TM's and HM's, are passed on into the hybrid. It's just like the genealogy in actual pokémon breeding!" The man was almost bouncing where he stood. Erebos stood and nodded.

"Good to know. There is no way to know just using the genetic information what moves they may know?" The tech shook his head negatively. "Then I will have records gone through about the pokémon taken, if possible. Most of them were trainer pokémon, so finding out their bloodlines or taught moves shouldn't be hard." Erebos turned and walked away, heading back towards the classified records to look there. "Those trainers are always showing off,"

Erebos arrived back at the classified room, going through the security procedure as quickly as possible to start sifting through the records he kept there. He stepped into the dim room and noticed immediately that he was not alone.

"Kevin," he spoke in a low, dangerous tone. One he usually reserved for the hybrids.

Kevin turned away from the cabinet he had been rifling through, a belt of pokéballs in his hand. He gulped at the deadly look in Erebos's eye.

"You've gone too far, this time," The hazel eyed man snatched the belt from the boy's grasp, and with the same movement, knocked him out cold with a blow to the head.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N: **Alright guys, last chance, as you see, to decide Kevin's fate. So: **Does Kevin deserve to suffer, or should he get the easy way out?** This is the **last** chapter I'll be asking, and depending on the responses...well, you'll see next chapter. Also, I'd appreciate some morph ideas! But please, don't leave them in the reviews; PM me so they'll be a surprise to the other readers ^^ And if you do give me a character, please don't be disappointed if they don't appear, or not immediately anyway: Can't overshadow the main characters, after all -.-'


	11. The Deal and the Hunt

**A/N:** A fairly quick update, I should think! Well, you can all thank my friend **SorcererTech**, who this chapter is dedicated to, for getting me inspired and helping me plan this one out. He's got a new story up, called **Divided**, which is a 'Morph fic on it's first chapter. Why don't you go check it out and review? XD

/-/-/-/-/

Erebos watched with a scowl as Kevin started to awaken. He pulled slightly against the bindings that held his arms behind the chair he was tied to and appeared confused when he found he couldn't budge. The boy groggily looked around, his green eyes blurry and apparently having trouble seeing in the dim cell. As if by command, the single caged light bulb lit the small concrete room, causing Kevin to squint against the sudden light, looking pained. He probably had a terrible headache from that blow to the head.

Finally, Kevin glanced around to see exactly where he was; when his eyes landed on Erebos he flinched and looked panicked. He only looked more terrified when he noticed that they were alone in one of the unused hybrid cells.

"Please, Erebos," Kevin started, his face a mask of terror "The door was open, I was just looking around! I wasn't going to take anything!" He was sweating by then, and his arms spasmodically jerked in their restraints as he talked.

"You've been given warnings before," Erebos stated, calmly cutting off any other excuses Kevin tried to present. "Multiple warning, and this is the final straw," he took a few steps closer to the terrified teen; there was a syringe clasped in his hand. Kevin saw it and his eyes widened; he tried to jerk away from the hazel-eyed man, the chair scraping against the cement floor.

"No, please don't! I don't want to die, Erebos; I can do more work!" Kevin was starting to cry, tears mingling with the dried blood from where he was hit earlier. "I can still help! I promise I won't cause any more trouble…" When he saw his pleading elicited no reaction from Erebos, he tried another point.

"I could always leave. I-I wouldn't tell anyone…" Erebos almost smiled when Kevin said this, and instantly the boy knew he had said the wrong thing.

"You should know better than any other that there is no leaving once you know what happens down here," the man gestured with his hand, meaning to encompass the entire compound. "If information somehow got out, you would be interrogated relentlessly," he paused and looked sharply at Kevin "We both know you would never hold out under that."

Erebos stepped closer to the sandy-haired teen and, pushing the boy's head up and to the side, readied the needle at the base of his neck. Kevin whimpered and cried out again desperately.

"Erebos, please! I'll do anything, just don't kill me! I don't want to die!" He was trembling now, and no longer even had the strength to jerk against the tight restraints on his wrists. He could feel the needle just start to enter his neck, and begged again. "Please," he whispered.

"How much do you want to live?" Erebos intoned, holding the needle still, the point just entering the boy's neck. Kevin could sense the ultimatum in the question.

"I want to live," Kevin cried weakly, too afraid of the needle to utter anything more than a whisper. Erebos removed the needle and Kevin hung his head, weeping silently. The scarred man stood back against the wall, fingering the needle of the syringe and staring at the shuddering youth.

"I could always kill you," he began, and Kevin jumped, shaking his head vehemently "But maybe you could prove yourself useful to us again,"

"Anything," Kevin said, "I'll do anything, everything you want me to," Erebos was inches from his face in a second.

"Anything," Erebos hissed "Are you sure about that? With the chore I may assign, taking this punishment may be your best option," he held the needle before Kevin's face, and a drop of clear liquid escaped the tip. Kevin's eyes widened in fear and he tried to back his head away.

"After all," Erebos growled, his hazel eyes like chips of ice "How could you know what 'anything' means?"

"I'll do it," Kevin didn't hesitate "No matter what." Erebos finally seemed satisfied with the answer. He pulled out a rubber tip and placed it over the needle's point, before undoing the bindings on Kevin's wrists.

"What I want you to do," Erebos began as he tucked the needle into his pant's pocket "Involves a hybrid," he caught and held Kevin's eyes with his own "Who I know you are familiar with…"

As the task was explained to the teen, he couldn't stop from crying at the choice: It seemed he was to die either way.

/-/-/-/-/

There was a disturbance in the large, natural looking prison called the Grand Enclosure. A group of the intellectuals were moving along one of the paths that divided each cell from the next, a large group of psychic pokémon flanking them. They weren't really needed though, as by this point all the morphs hid if they saw any of the scientists, trying to avoid the inevitable tests that accompanied their appearance.

The group moved purposefully towards the forested region of the environment, where the barren pines mixed with the lush trees of a full forest. It was a grim parade; most trying to keep a neutral expression, but many shot pitying looks at the sandy-haired teen walking glumly at the center of the cluster. The looks didn't linger, though, for the sharp-eyed Erebos glared harshly at any he caught staring.

"Here," the lead announced, looking through the bars nervously "**L/C-1-EV**; the Grovyle is in here somewhere," There was no movement from within the enclosure to confirm the statement; the undergrowth was conspicuously motionless.

"Give me Kirlia's pokéball," Erebos ordered Kevin as he led the boy towards the bars of the enclosure. Kevin spun around to face the man, looking ready to argue before catching the hard look in his eyes. The teen reluctantly removed a thin chain from around his neck, at the end of which a shrunken Premier Ball was attached. Erebos pocketed the ball and turned back to the group.

"Kadabra," the scar-faced man called, and the golden Psi pokémon stepped lightly through the crowd from its flanking position, its intelligent eyes focused on the man. "Teleport Kevin into the enclosure," he pointed into the forested area "Do not teleport him out until I give the command."

The pokémon nodded once and swept the spoon held in its clawed hand towards the boy, making him disappear, only to reappear a split second later a few feet inside the bars of the Grovyle hybrid's cell. The rest of the group departed by an unspoken command, leaving in the direction they came from, Erebos lingering behind for a moment. He came close to the bars and spoke so only Kevin could hear.

"You do this, or you die," He then left as well, presumably going to watch in one of the surveillance rooms so as not to interfere with the "challenge".

Kevin sighed and glanced around, still seeing no sign of the vicious grass type, although he was conflicted on whether that was a good or bad thing. He jumped when he heard the undergrowth rustle, before noticing that it came from the enclosure across from this one; **L/P-2-SV** if he remembered the blueprint correctly.

A moment later one of the hybrids cautiously emerged, standing close to the bars and looking at Kevin curiously. A glint of light reflected off something near the morph, and the sandy-haired teen noticed that the experiment appeared to have a metal foot. He realized not a moment later that this was the Furret hybrid that had to be given the new prosthetic foot after his transformation.

The Furret scrutinized him for a moment, his pointed ears twitching and his fluffy tail swishing constantly. Kevin felt awkward standing this close to one of the conscious experiments, knowing that perhaps only weeks ago this used to be a normal person. It was really disquieting; a person goes from being normal for _years_ of their life, and in a matter of a few hours is changed so completely, sometimes becoming more feral than tame.

"Hey," the Furret called out, and Kevin was surprised again; this boy couldn't be any older than he was! The green-eyed boy looked harder at the hybrid and noticed equally green eyes staring back at him inquiringly. Kevin shivered as the hybrid started talking again. "Hey, why are you in there?" The morph looked genuinely curious, standing on his toes to try and look behind Kevin.

"Uh," Kevin was unsure how to answer and decided it was best to just go look for the grass-type hybrid…even if it was an almost guaranteed death sentence. Besides, Erebos was probably watching him, even now, and if he (somehow) managed to survive this he didn't want to catch any more heat for interacting "inappropriately" with the experiments. He turned to resume his search, and the Furret called out to him again.

"Where are you going?" he asked, moving along the bars in his habitat to keep up with Kevin. After another moment when it became apparent that the human wouldn't speak, the hybrid called out again. "Um, hey, if you come back here, could you bring Wuffles?" The teen hybrid sounded somewhat nervous, but he appeared to be pleading. Despite himself, Kevin stopped and looked at the Furret-morph, noticing the flattened ears and twitching hands.

"What?" was all the young scientist's-aid could muster, and he could swear he saw a blush under the beige fur covering the hybrid's face.

"My Furret plushie," the hybrid had his head down now, his longish brown hair covering his eyes. "I think I had him when they brought me here," he shuffled his feet a little in the grass, rustling the low bushes surrounding him "I'd very much like him back." Again he looked at Kevin, pleading, much the same way Kevin had begged Erebos to spare his life…

"I'm sorry," Kevin said, turning away from him, seeing his tail fall limp as he started walking deeper into the Grovyle's habitat. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in the back of his head, and a small rock hit the ground behind him. Kevin turned around to see the Furret morph, his hand to his side as if he had thrown something, looking wide-eyed and equally surprised. They hybrid turned and fled deeper into his own habitat, and Kevin, thoroughly confused, rubbed his head as he resumed walking into the eerily still cell.

In the trees above him a pair of sharp yellow eyes, the black slit of a pupil almost invisible in the red of the iris, was watching him intently.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira was snapped out of her doze in the regenerating light of the false sun by an odd feeling. It was like a vibration of the air, a feeling matching to how heat would rise from pavement on a hot day. She opened her mouth to scent the air; the winds had shifted since she was dozing, and it carried a new smell to her…one she was unable to identify. She scowled, though, as she noticed the human smell permeating through the new scent.

A couple minutes later found a large group of people standing in the gap between her cell and the next, only a few feet away from the tree in which she was perched. Naira quickly removed the long, grayish t-shirt she was wearing, balling it up and hiding it in a cluster of branches she was sitting near. Her green scales would blend in much better with the leaves than the t-shirt; she just had to make sure she laid flat on a branch to hide her crimson belly scales. Scrutinizing the group, she noticed they were surrounded by a large group of pokémon, the majority of which were Mr. Mime and Bronzor, but she could see some small, round bird looking pokémon hopping around the ground as well.

Her head tilted as she heard someone talk, but couldn't make out the words, only the tone. She recognized it immediately and almost gave into the urge to jump down from the tree and slice him through the bars; of course it would be Erebos. She heard him speak again, and saw a pokémon, Kadabra, come towards him; it appeared there was a person standing closer to the bars than even Erebos was.

The air felt like it was rippling, and suddenly someone was inside her cell! Naira leaned her head down just a little bit further, still over fifteen feet up a tree, and tired to identify the intruder. He looked familiar, for there was no mistaking his scent as male, but Naira drew a blank on where she had seen that tauntingly familiar face before. When all of the other labcoats left, leaving the familiar one behind, Naira was confused; he didn't appear to be armed, not even with a remote for the collar she still had clamped around her neck.

She carefully descended a few feet down the tree, and would have marveled at the ease in which she climbed, had she not been distracted by the visitor to her prison. She saw him jump and she froze in place; Naira tried to look in the direction he was facing, but her vision was obstructed by the leaves that were cloaking her. Then another voice was speaking, the tone unfamiliar to her, and she realized that she did have a neighbor in the cage she had been looking into earlier. The speaking carried on haltingly for only a couple minutes, until the human in her cell turned to walk away, suddenly rubbing his head and looking over his shoulder to the opposite cage.

Naira raised a crested eyebrow before climbing a bit further down and crouching on a large branch, hoping to get a better look at the intruder before she decided on a course of action. The sandy-haired intruder started walking away from the bars, in a direction she had yet to travel. Naira finally got a good look at his face, and it seemed more familiar than ever: _Kevin._ _The lure, the bait. The traitor…this is his fault!_

In an instant Naira's curiosity turned to rage; Her pupils grew large, until only the smallest sliver of red surrounded them, and then so small they only appeared to be a vertical line. She almost growled, the thin, scaly lips over her jaws pulled away, baring rows of white, razor sharp teeth. With barely a sound she sprung from her tree, grasping on to the next nearest, and following Kevin deeper into the enclosure, tree by tree…

/-/-/-/-/

Kevin started as he heard a sound behind him; it sounded like something hard scraping against dry bark. He whipped around quickly, his arms before his face in preparation of attack, but nothing came. He lowered his hands and looked around again. Not even a leaf was moving. Kevin shuddered and continued walking in the same direction he had been headed, wandering more than anything.

He had considered almost immediately calling out the Grovyle hybrid's name. '_Naira'_, it had said in the file, showing a picture of her before the new DNA was introduced, with long dark green hair and a pale face, how he remembered her from the pokémon Center. He dismissed that plan almost immediately, first because he hoped to cause as little disturbance as possible (he read, and had heard all about the violent tendencies, and didn't want to tempt fate any more than he was already). The second being that he doubted his voice would rise above a whisper, he was so scared; it felt like there was a little ring in his throat, right under his jaw, and it clamped tight every time he opened his mouth.

Another noise, this time the violent rustling of the undergrowth, had Kevin diving behind a tree. Holding onto the bark so hard it dug into his hand, he peeked around the trunk; the bushes were just stilling as he looked. He sighed and rubbed his face vigorously with his hands, coughing a little as the knot in his throat tightened again.

A sudden ghost of warm breath on his neck made him run, too scared to even think of screaming. The undergrowth eventually thinned out, and the grass on the ground became patchy, with more of the thin soil exposed to the open air. Kevin stopped, panting under one of the taller pine trees, and looked behind him. There was nothing.

He let out a choked sob and slid down against the tree. His eyes started to leak and he wiped a vicious arm across his face, hurting his nose and cursing his stupidity. He kicked his heel against the ground, and dug his fingers harshly into the pine needle-coated ground, before letting out another choked sob, this time cursing his own cowardice. Running from nothing! Naira had probably been nowhere near him, and here he was, making a fool of himself. Erebos was probably laughing at him, right now.

Kevin pulled himself up off the ground and, brushing the pine needles off his clothes and wiping the sweat off his face, prepared to call the Grovyle's name. He opened his mouth to utter the first syllable, only to be slammed up against sharp bark of the tree by his neck. He opened his eyes dazedly, to be met with the sight of a furious reptilian visage.

/-/-/-/-/

At first Naira cursed her miscalculation in the jump, one of her feet sliding against the trunk and creating an impossibly loud scraping noise. That is, until she saw Kevin's reaction to it. He flinched quite badly, as if he expected someone to punch him in the face. She smiled, and decided it was time to play, to make him experience fear. Like the fear she felt when he trapped her, or was changed into this _creature_ and made to fight, and possibly die.

The next time she made noise, it was on purpose. Crouching behind a particularly large bush, she grabbed the base and shook as hard as she could, causing a few of the leaves to flutter to the ground. This time he ran and hid behind a tree; Naira nearly laughed. Like a _tree_ could stop her from getting to him! She quickly snuck around the other side of the tree, and stood behind him. Inhaling deeply, she reveled in the scent of his fear, and exhaled quietly behind him. The teen jumped and sprinted, never bothering to look behind him.

Naira grinned maliciously (if such a reptilian grimace could be called such) and gave chase, purposefully keeping a distance from Kevin. When he reached the thinner part of her "forest" she jumped into one of the few deep-rooted trees and perched behind the thick foliage. Although this position was further away, her scales would blend better here than in the darker green of the evergreen trees.

She watched without the least amount of pity as he struggled not to cry, his appearance sweaty and disheveled; sandy hair was in disarray and tangled with some fragments of bark, his green eyes red and watery with the effort to keep from crying. When he eventually took a deep breath and hauled himself from the ground, her muscles tensed and she sprung out of the tree, almost flying as she leapt clear of the last of the underbrush and ran at the teen.

Snarling, she impacted her opponent, her right arm out and her claw grabbing his neck in a hard grip. His eyes blearily opened and he grabbed onto her smooth, scaled arm by reflex, cutting his palms on her sharp leaves. He tried to speak and she squeezed his throat, feeling the windpipe start to crush under her grip. His eyes widened and he kicked out his feet, still pinned to the tree by Naira's unrelenting grip, and started struggling frantically as he started to suffocate.

She released her grip and the teen fell to the ground, panting; a bruise was already starting to form on his throat. She parted her jaws again and inhaled his fear, even more potent now that he was actually confronted. Kevin coughed and Naira's eyes narrowed as she looked down at him; he had barely faced a fraction of the pain she had already endured! Falling to her knees beside him she held his right shoulder in her left claw, her right hovering over his face so that he could see the small, needle sharp claws at the end of each digit. He started to kick so she swung on top of him, kneeing the terrified teen in the gut and sending him gasping for air again.

"Deceiver," she hissed, dragging one of the small claws down the side of his face, slicing his cheek open cleanly as he whimpered and squirmed beneath her. "Your fault!" she screeched, slicing through the same spot again, the blood staining her claw and the ground below Kevin's head.

"Please," Kevin shouted, Naira's full weight still on him "I came to make a deal! It could get you out of here," his voice broke but he continued quickly as Naira lulled, claw still poised above his face. "All you need to do is participate willingly in the tests," he got no further than that.

She sprung off of him and crouched a few feet away, staring at him through barely detectable pupils. Kevin pushed his way away from the hybrid, sitting up and pressing his hand tenderly against his cheek as the blood continued to flow through his fingers. Naira inhaled deeply as the synthetic wind gusted, sending the coppery smell of Kevin's blood her way. While the smell elicited no hunger in the grass type, it did bring forth something else…

Kevin looked up fearfully as Naira let out a long, low hiss, her eyes focused on his face. She stood up slowly and approached him in leisurely, measured steps, circling slightly to one side. The teen bit his lip and started to shake at the look in hybrid's eyes; it was the look a wild pokémon got right before doing in an easy opponent.

"Erebos," Kevin shouted, knowing he could be heard by the new microphones planted in the area "I can't do it Erebos! Get me out of here!" the boy cried, taking quick, stumbling steps back to distance himself from Naira. "Please, Erebos, this is impos—" he was cut off as the Grovyle hybrid charged at him, planting one foot before impact and spinning to kick him harshly in the chest. There was an audible _crack _on impact, and Kevin tumbled backwards onto the ground.

The teen crawled to his hands and knees and coughed up a spray of blood onto the patchy grass before him. Naira slid up beside him, her knees bent and posture low, arms curled under her chest and claws clenching and relaxing spasmodically. She cocked her head to the side as Kevin noticed her tried to stand, tried to escape what would surely kill him. A couple more steps brought her before the teen, his hair plastered to his head by sweat and blood. She made a curious noise and touched her claw to the side of his face, collecting the crimson blood, and then bringing it closer to her own face as if to examine the bloodstained appendage.

Kevin watched, horrified, as the hybrid snaked out her sinuous tongue and cleaned her claw of the blood, before turning those frightening eyes to him again. Her jaw parted again, and this time a noise more frightening than her screech came out. Laughter. Hissing, inhuman, laughter; Kevin shuddered and struggled to his feet, trying to get as far away from the blood-lusting creature as possible.

The moment he stood, Naira stopped her laughter. Somewhere deep in her head, she didn't understand why she had been laughing, but that was pushed aside as more of the crimson lifeblood fell from Kevin's face. She took a step forward, towards the shaking teen; he looked pale now…something had probably been broken when she kicked him.

He spun away from her, his arms flying wide to hold his balance as he turned to run. In one swift motion she lunged, her jaws wide, and she snapped them shut over his left wrist; bones could be heard breaking as she crunched down, blood spilling into her mouth and onto the already-bloody ground. Kevin had no time to utter any noise of pain; he fainted the moment his wrist was shattered, falling limply to the ground as Naira released the broken limb.

Licking her jaws clean of blood, Naira stood over the seemingly-lifeless body, staring intently at the face. He was so weak…when she had been taken, he had seemed so strong. Her eyes narrowed furiously and she crouched next to him, then leaning over him, one arm across his shoulders, the other's leaves poised to slice the teen's throat neatly. He would never again ruin another life, not if Naira could help it. She raised her arm and the three leaves unfurled, looking like magnificent bloodstained swords under the false, setting, sun.

"Oh no," a melodious voice called "Naira, don't!" Naira's head snapped up and around to look in the direction the voice came from: That voice sounded familiar!

There was a set of bars not twenty feet away from where she was crouched, prepared to kill Kevin. Watching her with sad, almond shaped eyes was Trien, the Buneary hybrid, next to her stood a shaky, sick looking Furret hybrid she didn't recognize. Naira sighed as the bloodfury left her, not even stirring as the air rippled and Kevin was teleported out of her cell.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:** Wow, that's a long chapter! The longest, as a matter of fact. Leave a review and tell me what you thought. As stated last chapter, you can send me a PM with a character profile if you'd like your character to possibly appear. **ALSO:** Kevin's fate is now sealed; thank you everyone who gave me their vote! XD


	12. No Guilt

**A/N:** Hmm, almost three months since I updated this last? Ah well, at least it's not as bad as seven...*laughs nervously*. Anyway, I won't bore you with my excuses: all I'll say is that Senior Papers suck, and Hamlet would be much more enjoyable if I didn't have to analyze every little bit. Enjoy!

/-/-/-/-/

Naira could feel the eyes of the other two hybrids on her, but refused to look up from her bloodied claws. Sitting next to the large patch of bloody ground that Kevin had previously occupied, she watched her blade leaves; as she moved them the drying blood ran in rivulets towards her arms, shining in the slanted rays of the setting "sun".

She didn't regret attacking Kevin, nor would she deny trying to kill him. She would have done that anyway, had any other opportunity presented itself. No, what Naira was ashamed of was the fact that Trien, the closest thing to a "friendly acquaintance" she had found in this place had seen her attempt it. Not to mention the queasy looking Furret boy who had come with her.

A soft murmuring caused her to look up; Trien was crouched down next to the Furret boy, whom at the moment looked particularly green, probably sick at the sight of the attempted murder by Grovyle-morph. Naira took the opportunity to actually look at Trien, as all she had ever seen before was a brown almond-shaped eye through a crack in the wall…

Trien did resemble a Buneary, but there was a curious difference that made her look particularly striking (_Not that a human pokémon wasn't unusual enough…_). She was relatively short, in the lower half of the five foot range maybe; it was harder to tell than usual, as she was still crouched by the other normal-type, petting his hair affectionately. Her ears (which at the moment were both raised, actively listening), face, and upper body were covered in short, smooth brown fur, as is normal in Buneary. What struck Naira as unusual was that all the fur that was usually beige on Buneary (the fluffy tufts on the ears and legs, as well as the feet) was actually black, exactly the same shade as the long hair that hung about halfway down her back.

Tilting her head quizzically, Naira focused her attention on the Furret-boy sitting next to Trien. Since when had they started putting two people in the same cell? As if sensing her gaze, the boy looked up and his green eyes widened (_Comically,_ said the little voice deep in her head) before scooting himself another foot away from the bars. Naira noticed offhandedly that the boy wasn't wearing pants; apparently clothing was a request item…admittedly, most were probably more worried that they were growing fur or scales than covering non-applicable human modesty. It was also noted that he appeared to have a metal foot…but that was beside the point.

Trien was talking to him again; it seemed that she was trying to convince him to stay, if him hugging his fluffy tail and shaking his head vehemently while shooting the Grovyle-morph nervous glances was anything to go by.

It dawned on her a moment later that the Furret-boy was probably ill at the sight of the blood still speckling her leaves. Feeling something close to pity, she turned her back to them and licked her leaves clean of Kevin's drying blood. The behavior should have felt disgusting to her, equally unpleasant the coppery taste of the blood, but she ignored it. Somehow, this appealed more to her than wiping it off with a clod of moss.

Wiping her face with her claws to ensure complete removal of any blood-specks, she turned and walked towards the bars.

Tried was smiling at her slightly, although Naira felt it was more for her cell-mate's reassurance than happiness to see her. Trying to smile in return, the grass type found the only sensation to be a twitch in the corner of her scaly lips, and almost sighed. First she could barely talk, now she couldn't even smile?! Then came the hit of realization, and truth: There's really not much to smile about in this place, but for cruel irony.

Seeming to sense the dark cloud over her thoughts, Trien put her arm through the bars on her side, palm up in a show of trust. Naira sighed, contented, as she took the remaining few steps to press against the bars, her cooler claw slipping into the warm grip of Trien's slim hand. Calmed to a surprising degree by the simple touch, Naira turned her head towards the male normal-type, who now looked slightly less nervous.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she hissed, with some difficulty. "I find that lately it's hard to repress these—," she paused, searching for the right word "urges."

He appeared somewhat startled, but calmed quickly and even offered a small smile. It's amazing what just a little of the spoken word can accomplish. He stretched his arm into the dividing space, paw-like hand palm up like Trien's was. Trien smiled and withdrew her hand as Naira put her arm through another space, straining to reach his shorter arm.

"I'm Terren," he managed not to flinch as her scaled hand slid onto his. Noticing this, Naira turned her head slightly and tried to smile, again feeling the quirk in the corner of her mouth and hoping Terren saw.

"Nice to meet you, Terren," she sighed, and the dialogue fell into an awkward silence as she withdrew her hand. After about a minute Trien cleared her throat, and the concerned look came back, directed at Naira.

"How are you feeling, Naira? The last time I saw you, you weren't doing so well," She trailed off, leaving anything else unspoken. Naira had to agree; the last time Trien saw her she had collapsed in her cell and gone into a seizure. She smiled grimly (although she could only imagine what _that_ expression could look like with her uncooperative face).

"Better, Trien, thank you," The Grovyle-morph rubbed a claw over her snout. "Although I fear I become more of a freak," Another smile. It seemed the more she talked, the easier it got. Still, it sounded like she was hissing, although Trien didn't appear phased in the least.

"At least you are still alive," The Buneary-morph reached over and placed a hand on Terren's shoulder, who was now fidgeting. "I was getting really worried; you were gone for a long time, and when they moved us in here I was afraid I wouldn't see you again," Naira listened in stony silence; she still hadn't quite figured how long she had been unconscious, and it was really bothering her.

She looked down at her arms, then her legs, and noticed they looked thinner than before. _How much time would it have taken for her muscles to atrophy so? And even atrophied, just how much stronger was she than a normal human? _Glancing up, Naira noticed Terren watching her closely, before he leaned in and whispered something to Trien. A small smile appeared on her face before she spoke again, in a deliberately low voice that would not carry far.

"I spoke to Lyra," Naira blinked slowly and Tried smiled an apology. "She's mostly Milotic now, and is kept in the next cell," Her ear quirked back, and Naira's gaze followed, seeing that in their cell the trees thinned into a field of tall grass. Naira shrugged a shoulder for Trien to continue.

"She has a plan," Trien's brown eyes flashed, and Terren seemed to barely keep himself from grinning. "A brilliant plan, one for all of us to escape!"

"Do you know what the plan is?" Naira queried, her voice barely above a whisper. Terren's ears fell a little as he pressed himself closer to the bars.

"She said she can't tell us," he whispered back, Naira having to turn her head to hear him properly. "She said they're watching us, and maybe listening, and it wouldn't be safe to talk about it yet,"

"Does anyone else know about it?" Naira spoke vaguely now, because the more she thought about it the more she was sure they were at least watching. How else could they know to teleport Kevin out when they did?

"The electric types," Trien commented with a wry grin, nodding into Naira's cage, which she took as meaning on her other side. "I think they knew each other before they were changed," She quipped, and Terren blushed scarlet under his fur.

Naira shook her head; at least someone around here could enjoy themselves. Then she shook herself; the scientists were probably watching the two…voyeurs.

They all jumped at a sudden noise, a very familiar one: the airy pop of a tranquilizer dart being fired. Naira whirled around, leaves unfurled and teeth bared; Trien was crouched down with her ears flat and an arm around Terren, who was wide eyed and appeared to barely keep himself from bolting. A scream of pure anger from the same direction broke his resolve and the Furret-boy sprinted away on all fours, into the tall grass. Trien stood, her ears high and trembling, and looked at Naira, who was still facing the direction of the commotion, an ugly snarl on her face.

"Do you know who's over there?" she asked, voice shaking while she compulsively smoothed her fur. Naira glanced over at her, her pupils shrunken to the barest of slits.

"Kael," she hissed, and ran towards his cell, leaving a confused Buneary-morph standing at the bars, staring at the gouges her clawed feet left in the pine-needle covered ground.

It took less than a minute to reach the bars between Kael's cell and her own. She didn't bother to hide herself from view, not worrying what the scientists might do to her for almost killing one of their own. It didn't matter; they ignored her anyway.

The gap that ran between the two cells, empty thus far, now had people in it. Curiously, only some of them were wearing the white lab coats and, much to Naira's distress, only a couple even looked vaguely familiar. Again, she was struck by the magnitude of people working on this "project".

Stepping forward slowly she went to press her snout through the bars, and was promptly met with a barrier as hard as concrete. One she couldn't see. Rubbing her snout sourly, her eyes were suddenly drawn upward by a slight movement.

Sitting atop the ceiling-bars was a focused looking Mr. Mime, large hands pressed together and eyes narrowed in concentration. Now that she was looking, the Grovyle-morph saw a few more spaced around the area, all looking equally as focused.

Naira tried to stick her arm into the gap, but was met by the same wall. She growled; Barriers. A grunt from Kael's cell drew her attention again (she was slightly ashamed at having been distracted by Barriers), and she half-climbed a nearby pine to get a better view.

Kael, if possible looking more vicious than ever, was crouched in the shallow, churned up snow some distance into his enclosure. At his feet lay a bright pink feathered dart, and about ten feet from him one of the half dozen people _inside_ his cell was stumbling to his feet, a pained expression on his face. One of the little green and purple round birds squeezed through the ceiling bars and landed on the man, teleporting them both into the division gap.

Naira found herself growing sad as she watched Kael struggle to stay conscious, and she let out a small cry of her own as his legs buckled and he collapsed, the tranquilizer taking full effect. The scientists swarmed around the fallen morph, crossing his arms over his front and binding them tightly, as well as tying his legs together at the knees.

A Kadabra appeared and it, along with a few more of the round birds, teleported the group into the gap again, the Sneasel-morph carried between two of the more muscular of the group without strain.

In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Naira jumped from her tree, landing softly, and stalked to the bars. The scientists kept walking, most already far ahead of the two towing Kael; they continued to ignore her.

They finally reached a point where the walkway became a Y-intersection, the bars between her own, Kael's and another unseen prisoner, and they were heading away from her. Naira didn't know why, but it hurt her heart when Kael's head lolled, his unblinking, glossy eyes in her direction. A wave of anger boiled through her, and her throat started to tingle, like static hovering over an old TV screen. She swallowed the sensation as she slumped with her back to the bars, the grim parade out of sight.

/-/-/-/-/

Through much experience, Kael knew what to expect after being hit with a tranquilizer dart. First the dizziness, then the weakening, then, then worst part. Incapable of movement, even the tiniest flicker of an eyelid…trapped in your mind, you can only observe. And feel, of course.

He was acutely aware of the pain in his neck from his head being allowed to flop about, as well as the too-tight holds the smelly men had on him. Becoming a dark type was double-edged, he supposed; he could barely be teleported anywhere (like some of the other types were), but then again, he got to see the sights.

For a while he could hear the grass predator following, and when they changed direction he saw her; yellow eyes ablaze, like she was trying to kill with her eyes alone. Paralyzed as he was, he managed only a choked giggle at the thought of what would happen if she got out of her cage.

A grunt was forced from his prone body as he was dropped on a cart by his carriers. Luckily, his head was propped up by one of the bars, so he was able to look ahead; apparently one would be pushing while the other stayed a few feet before them. They always did this…Kael idly wondered why they bothered, since he couldn't move anyway.

The trek took longer than it ever did from his old cell; it wasn't until he recognized on of the few doors in the bright hallway that recalled his location. The direction he came from had been a blank wall the last time he was brought to this wing.

Bored now that he knew where he was, Kael stared ahead at the front guard. Thoughts lazily drifted through his head; if he disemboweled the man, how long would he live…? Scratch that. After being _carefully _disemboweled, how long could he be made to live? Would he scream bloody murder, or would he just pass out?

Blinking his eyes and flexing his claws (carefully, as they were crossed and pinned at his sides) he smiled a wide, fanged grin. Every time he was tranquilized he recovered more quickly…now would be a great time to test and experiment of his own!

Raking his claws quietly along the inside of the restraints, shredding it effectively, he wondered: Could the man be efficiently disemboweled without his claws shredding the intestines? A rough tug snapped the remains of the restraints, and he quickly leant forward to cut his leg-restraints as well; he would just have to test that himself to see.

A sharp stab in his arm stopped the 'morph in his tracks; a syringe, all its contents pressed into his system, was sticking out of his bicep. The man who was pushing the cart still had a shaking hand on said syringe, jarring the needle painfully into his furred flesh. A garbled curse spilt from the dark type's lips as he lunged forward and bit the man, vision blacking out as his jaws locked on the screaming man's hand.

/-/-/-/-/

Kevin woke to the most intense pain he had ever experienced, letting out a scream as he tried to lunge forward, out of the grip of the creature intent on killing him.

He gasped and opened his eyes when a pair of hands landed on his shoulders, pushing him back into what he realized was a bed. Morgan was hovering over him, a distant look in her ice blue eyes as she kept him pressed onto the bed until he stopped resisting.

"Don't move," she said quietly, he tone unreadable.

"But Au—," Kevin was cut off by her fierce glare, biting his tongue in his haste to shut his mouth, and wincing as the action pulled the muscles on his aching face.

"I'm going to tell Erebos you're awake— I know the deal you made with him. Feel lucky that he even had you teleported out," Morgan's icy eyes flared behind her dark-rimmed glasses, and her dark hair whipped around as she stormed in the other direction, presumably to find Erebos.

The teen couldn't tell if she was angrier at him for making the deal or slipping up and calling her "Aunt". After all, importance down here was by your own mettle; they didn't need anyone thinking he got his position through family ties. Kevin sighed. That slip of the tongue would probably cause him trouble sometime in the future… hopefully he would live long enough to see it.

/-/-/-/-/

Kael laughed upon waking, a grating giggle that made his eyes water and his body shake. This was rich! He would have never guessed they kept their own injured so close by their experiments!

This room was one he had been in quite a few times; just two doors down from where they transformed their captives, and right next to the lab that had the small room with the special beds. The only thing that had changed from his last visit was the inhabitants of the room. He was even in the same bed.

Bobbing his head in time with the cheery tune in his head, Kael proceeded to stare intently at the human on the bed across and a few down from his, a creepy little smile on his face, allowing his fangs to peek over his bottom lip. Twitching he head to the side, he cracked his neck loudly. He would have been cracking his fingers as well, but his hands were tightly fisted and wrapped, restrained uncomfortably above his head by a bar at a bar attached to the wall behind his bed.

The teen was a familiar one to him; he could often be seed on the sidelines, assisting the scientists like an intern. Kael didn't care to draw his name to mind, but clicked his tongue loudly as the scent struck a recent memory. The human (he appeared to have been sleeping) opened weary green eyes and stared at Kael, openmouthed.

"She _thrashed_ you," Kael sang at the staring boy, grinning like a maniac. Indeed, the grass monster had certainly inflicted damage—he had clearly heard the hunt from his cell, and had enjoyed it immensely. The injuries appeared severe, but not immediately life-threatening: One of the teen's arms was in a stiff cast, he was shirtless but had gauze wrapped tightly around his chest, and the left side of his face was eclipsed by a bandage.

'_Not bad,_' thought Kael '_She should have gone more for the squishy organs, though,_' He grinned wider at the thought, offhandedly noticing the boy shudder. Feeling not an ounce of pity, Kael continued talking.

"You should feel lucky though," The boy's eyes widened but he remained silent. "I know she's hungry; she could have tried to _eat_ you—," The dark-type's red eyes narrowed as he looked the boy over. "I know I would have."

The boy's eyes almost bugged out of his head before he blushed scarlet and refused to meet the hybrid's eyes. Kael cackled madly, pulling briefly against his restraints before settling again.

"Dirty thoughts," he chided with a smirk; the green eyed teen looked like he was wishing for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N: **Eh, anyone else notice that Naira's a bit of a bitch? *shrug* Kevin's alive! Rejoice! (While you can!) He has to face his trials, just like everyone else...don't think he's done yet~ I'm not quite satisfied with this chapter; it seems so boring after chapter 11! Regardless, this needed to be stated--you'll see why later. Review please: reading all your lovely reviews is what got me off my lazy ass to get this chapter posted!


	13. Interlude: The Outside World

**A/N: **Well, I'm back. Ya miss me? Hmm, well, that doesn't matter. Enjoy the Interlude...

/-/-/-/-/

The anchorwoman sat primly behind the desk, her expression grim as she shuffled the papers stacked neatly before her; as the camera zoomed in on her face, she fixed it with a cool gaze before speaking.

"In other news Adicus Lyle, age 16, son of the president of Lyle Medical Technologies of Johto—Argus Lyle—is still missing." A picture appeared over her left shoulder, showing a lightly tanned, smiling teen with large brown eyes framed by dark brown hair, cheerfully giving a peace sign to whomever was taking the photo. "He was reported missing last month when he failed to arrive at a relative's home in Jubilife City after a stopover from Ecruteak City in Johto region. If you have information on the missing boy, please call your nearest Police Station."

The camera then zoomed onto the anchorman seated next to the grim woman. He cleared his throat before he started to speak.

"Also still missing is Naira Gray, 17 next month, a junior Nurse working in the Pokémon Center of Hearthome City," the picture that appeared was not recent, showing a ten year old with pale skin and dark green hair scowling at the camera. "Suspected missing for a little more than a month. Again, any information should be reported to the nearest Police Station."

All of the other news stations, no matter what region they were in, were reporting similar phenomenon, and indeed, it was a phenomenon. While trainers go missing for great lengths of time, only to turn up after intense training, very few of those missing were trainers…

/-/-/-/-/

Amity Square, Dragonair decided, was an odd place. Admittedly, any human place she had ever been to was quite odd, in her opinion, but Amity Square especially so. There was something about the water that reeked of being…not right.

Ah, yes, that's right. It would probably be unfair to start rambling about the not-rightness of the water when there are people so curious as to how she, a _Dragonair_ (for Christ's sake!) managed to get into Amity Square, as a wild pokémon no less! Well, long story short, it can be said that Dragonair likes to travel and does so quite frequently, often leaving a trail of chaos behind. How else do you think the Grimer found their way to Celadon City..? That bit of a fun time is in the past though, and with her great age comes great boredom, spurring her onward to travel and generally meddle where she is least wanted.

Back to the water though… Dragonair let herself drift to the bottom of the large pond (practically a lake, really) and was quite confused when she saw a large pipe jutting out of the thick mud coating the lakebed. It was quite large (quite large enough for her to swim thorough, anyway. Heh, heh, heh…) and covered only by a flimsy grate.

With a mischievous smile unbecoming of her age (and species, for that matter…) she wound her tail around the bar and ripped it off, before slithering into the pipe. She only descended for a short while before she encountered…a U-bend? A sharp incline that left a gap of air, before curving and descending deeper into the ground. (Humans are so strange!)

It eventually happened; all sense of direction was lost to the winding pipe. Dragonair shrugged (…really?); this was interesting! Nothing yet compared to that time when Team Rocket attacked the Safari Zone, but still!

So, it was no surprise when, with her mind wandering, Dragonair failed to notice that there was another grate above her, and through it was shining dim light. When she finally did notice the grate (i.e., smashing her head on it), Dragonair decided to use some semblance of caution and, only half expecting an answer, called out softly.

"Hellooo?"

And then there was a splash, and a displacement in the water.

A pale face was looking at her through the grate…a pokémon. No…no it wasn't…

"Hello?" A dialect similar to hers', but the accent was…odd. Dragonair stared; large red eyes watched her back, thin fingers clasped firmly around the grate… a long sinuous tail weaving hypnotic patterns into the water. Milotic? No…

Dragonair's large brown eyes widened; what had the humans done now? She very nearly groaned.

Instead, she cooed.

"It's okay darling," she watched in some amusement as the Milotic-but-not's eyes widened comically. "I'll help you."

/-/-/-/-/

Groggy eyes opened to the sound of a bang, but tired limbs wouldn't respond, even such an involuntary reaction as jumping in surprise.

A shuddering breath in, and out again…repeated a few dozen times for good measure. His fluttering pulse still wavered in fear. Waking up in a strange, dark place will do that to you. Another inhalation of breath brings the scent of…salt water? The room is rocking slowly, and there's a low rumbling all around.

A…a boat? Why was he on a boat? Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, thought overtaking nervous fear for the moment. He was camped on Route 11…training there because Rattata was having difficulty fighting the Diglett…

Where was Rattata!? He still couldn't move, no matter how hard he tried, but let out a low, anguished moan that ended in a choked sob. Rattata, Rattata…

He actually managed to jump a little, and wince when there was another bang, followed by a glaringly bright light in his face. It took a few seconds to realize it was moonlight, and his garbled thoughts dwelled on how long he would have had to be in the dark for dim moonlight to become excruciating.

Again his eyes flickered open, and he jumped seeing a pair of boots less than a foot away from his face. The wearer of said boots crouched down by his head and mumbled something he couldn't understand, and then trailed fingers along his cheek, making the incapacitated boy shudder in revulsion.

When the cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose, reeking of some chemical, choking the air out of him, he could barely struggle.

_Rattata…_

The darkness swept over him like a tide.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:** Confused yet? Don't be. As the chapter says, this is an interlude, so, while I'm working through the next chapter (which is giving me quite a difficult time), try and decode this X3


	14. Suspicions

**A/N: **You can all have heart attacks now. Or maybe the world is ending? Yes, this is the second chapter in two days, feel special. I expect praise for this... Ah yes, and this chapter is dedicated to **Agent Florida**. Happy early birthday, Natz!

/-/-/-/-/

"Night" had fallen in this grand prison, and it was very odd. Unnerving. The neutral gray-blue dome of a sky turned briefly orange as the series of lights of the "sun" reached the horizon, then purple, and then almost pitch black. There was a single dim white light glowing _somewhere_ from the ceiling, mimicking the fleeting moonlight surprisingly well.

Naira shuddered and stood, stiff from leaning against the bars so long. The unnatural quiet made her jumpy, and the cold drifting from Kael's area made her shiver. Moving stiffly she headed back towards the leafy trees, intent on finding her shirt…maybe attempt to sleep. With blank eyes and a disheartened stride she tried to retrace her steps back to her tree, careful not to disturb the undergrowth and break the strange silence.

It took longer than it should have for Naira to find her way back to her starting place. It would have annoyed her, but she was tired…not just tired. Exhausted, physically and emotionally, somehow more so the latter than the former. The events of the day were weighing heavily on her mind.

It was harder than it should have been to think, to ponder and worry over her situation, but Naira finally hit upon some points that gave her a slight amount of reassurance. The Grovyle-morph was satisfied with the conclusion she came to, as odd as the logic was.

She wasn't angry at being turned into some hybrid creature—she was angry that it was done without consent on her part. On the other hand though, she was now sure that had this transformation been consensual she would have been a wreck. Why? Without control of the situation, she had been forced to adapt to it. Analyzing her personality, Naira was sure that had she willingly chosen to have her genes spliced with a pokémon she would have been devastated at the change—particularly her nature, which she was positive now prevented her from caring for injured pokémon, now viewing them as food… If possible, she'd have been even more devastated at the secondary mutation that further altered her mindset, forever separating her from the rest of humanity.

That's not even considering her appearance: At this point she was sure that she looked more pokémon than human. That thought was nailed in with a wince as she looked down and noticed that although her ribcage appeared larger—_probably for lung capacity_, she though—, any "development" had reduced almost to the point of a child. In short, it looked like she was starved, and hadn't an ounce of fat left.

The position of the shadows had changed and Naira realized that she had been thinking for quite a while. She stood straight and stretched her back before resuming her default slouching posture. It took her more effort to climb her tree this time, her claws slipping a few times before she reached the higher branches. It was only after she had already tugged the large shirt over her head and settled in her nest that she realized she had yet to eat, but she pushed the thought away. She still felt no hunger.

Carefully clearing her mind, so as not to think about the grim suspicions brought on by witnessing Kael's abrupt abduction, Naira stared through the bars above her, watching the slow trek of the silvery moon-lights as the moved across the dome…

/-/-/-/-/

A good laugh had been had at the teen's expense, but sadly, all good things must come to an end. And Kael told the boy that, too. Of course, the boy must have disagreed, for he looked immensely relieved when Kael's usual handler came by and stuck the Sneasel-morph in the neck with a sedative in preparation of moving him.

Kaeleni got off one more dirty innuendo that turned the younger a satisfying tomato-berry red before slumping into half-consciousness. They must have used a stronger dose, or maybe something else altogether, because instead of the usual catatonic state he actually dropped into unconsciousness.

Before he even opened his eyes, though, Kaeleni knew where he was. The cool sand he was laying face first in, scratching its way into his nose as well as his open wounds, accompanied with the firm pressure of some fire-type's foot on his back told him clearly it was his turn in the Arena again.

Tugging his sluggish limbs into action, Kael propped his head up with his arms, not bothering to try and rise any more than that; a warning grunt and slight heating of the air around him told him his guard was antsy. His opponent hadn't arrived yet, so the dual type amused himself by spitting into the sand and freezing it.

His ears perked excitedly when he heard the large door at the opposite end of the arena clang open—but the sound startled his jumpy guard and he winced and rolled away when his back was scorched. He stood and rolled his eyes at the incredulous looking Monferno, but it made no move to restrain him when he didn't move away.

Kaeleni immediately recognized his dour-looking opponent as being made an Aron. If the smooth, unridged face plate and strikingly blue eyes not been clear enough, the steel shin and arm guard-looking plates, the single large spike on the plate on her back and the thick dark grey skin everywhere else assured it.

The Monferno quickly grabbed his arms when Kael started to shift from foot to foot as the Aron was pushed into place by a particularly large Combusken. He kept still but tilted his head curiously at his opponent, noticing amusedly that she couldn't have been five feet tall. He grinned widely when she noticed his scrutiny and stiffened, causing the pokémon to push her and for her to almost fall over.

The customary call of "Fight!" came a moment later, and the fire types sprang away quickly. Kael charged immediately, type advantages and match-ups running though his head unbidden: Aron is steel/rock—could know a rock move, almost certainly has a steel one! (_Becareful__**Becareful**__**BECAREFUL**__…_)…neither ice nor dark have any advantage to steel's resistance (_Damn! Never figured how to beat this one in the League_)…

Upon Kael's approach the Aron-morph did a most unexpected thing; she dropped to the ground, knees to her chest and arms held vertical in a position that closed the gaps between her knees and chest with her armor. The Sneasel-morph's quick mind decided that she had fought in an Arena battle before, and this was her technique…and this could pose a problem.

Keen eyes sharp, Kael lunged to one side, ducking low and slashing at the small amount of armor-like skin exposed on the shoulder. He could feel his claws scrape over the tough hide, but let his momentum carry him on, even as he realized no damage had been done. Grumbling disdainful non-words to himself, he spun in the sand, finding the steel type facing him but still seated.

Leaping forward, Kaeleni inhaled deeply, waiting until he was a mere few feet away before exhaling a blast of Icy Wind, leaving frost crystals covering the other morph's armor.

She retaliated though. Before Kael could completely leap away one of her sturdy arms whipped out, metal-tipped fingers crooked in a claw, and slashed at his leg, adding another tear to the material and scraping the limb beneath. Although the hit did relatively little damage it made Kael re-assess this opponent, having never been faced with this technique before.

The Sneasel-morph skittered back onto the harder ground before suddenly charging his opponent again, only this time he was expecting the arm that struck out at him. Claws retracted and fingers uncurled, he grabbed her elbow, right behind the plate covering her forearm, and used his momentum to topple her over, dragging her for a moment before releasing his grip.

Finally looking back, he noticed with some surprise that the Aron-morph had moved, some dozen feet in the opposite direction, and was crouched low instead of fully seated. Head tilted to one side and grin widening, Kael ran full tilt towards his target in anticipation of a fight…yet was somehow still surprised when he suddenly received a painful face-full of mud.

Hastily trying to rub the mud out of his eyes, stumbling backwards (and hopefully out of range of any more attacks), Kael realized that he may have overestimated his abilities…

Able to see again, sharp red eyes locked onto large, eerily blue ones, and immediately he lunged to one side…just in time to avoid a sudden and unexpected avalanche of rocks. Looking wide-eyed at what could only be described as _boulders_ where he had just been, Kael realized that that would have _**really**_ hurt. He looked back at the blue eyes still glaring at him from behind a steel mask and made his decision.

Without further ado the Sneasel-morph plopped onto a more solid part of the ground a few feet from the other dual type, red eyes still wide and ears high in what could only be some type of anticipation. After several long moments of mutual staring (or glaring, in the Aron-morph's case), they were both seated and the silence was broken.

"What?" snapped the steel type, eerie eyes narrowing behind her mask.

"What, what?" Kael replied, offhandedly rubbing sand and mud out of the still-open gash on his shoulder. When it appeared that the other was contemplating attacking him again, Kael continued with a fey grin stretched across his face. "You fight well,"

She glared at him again, and Kael had to wonder if something happened to her eyes during the Change that made them stuck in that expression. Not daunted in the least Kael continued to grin at her.

"Name's Chikyu. What's yours?" she said shortly, unnerved by the dark type. His behavior could just be a quirk, but she had the strangest feeling that something wasn't right about him…

"Kael," he replied, the fey smile relaxing briefly into something more natural, only for a second though. "As I said, you fight well. I don't wanna fight now, though. Can we be done?"

Stunned, Chikyu just nodded. Could they even do that? Just _stop_? Kael waved at her and got up, walking over to the door he was brought in through and leaning against it.

Over at the door, still picking mud out of his fur and smiling, Kael was content.

Yeah, he was a sore loser.

/-/-/-/-/

Morgan found Erebos in the classified surveillance room, seated before the screens in the back of the room, staring intently. Following his line of sight, she landed on one of the screens that displayed an image from a mobile camera, this one attached to a Taillow. At the moment it appeared to be in one of the forested enclosures…

She nearly sighed. Really, this obsession with the Grovyle specimen was getting out of hand if the _lab techs_, of all people, were starting to notice…

"Did you want something, Morgan?" His voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and although the words were polite, the tone was chill. He never looked away from the screens.

"Why did you make Kevin do that?" No use running around the issue. "He was almost killed; but you knew that, didn't you?"

Erebos looked over his shoulder at her, appearing bored, before turning back to the screen. A few minutes passed, and no answer seemed to be forthcoming; Morgan turned to leave

"He was rifling through the confiscated items," Erebos finally turned away from the screen, his hazel eyes catching and holding her own. "He became a liability as soon as he stepped in this room."

"What did he do? Really?" She almost didn't want to ask, but her curiosity got the best of her. It always did.

Instead of saying anything, the scarred man simply gestured towards one of the cabinets along the wall. Morgan looked at it, confused, until she realized what it held. All of the pokéballs, containing all of the pokémon taken when their masters were spirited away…

"He could have killed us all," she murmured. And he could have. Kevin's curiosity could have killed them all, whether he meant it or not. There were over a hundred pokémon stored in that cabinet, all in stasis, but that stasis is broken as soon as they are removed from their place… More than ten of League strength…

Erebos was next to her, standing before the cabinet, expression inscrutable. Out of his pocket he pulled a Premier Ball on a length of chain; Kevin's Kirlia. He placed it in the cabinet without a word, and as the cabinet closed, Kevin's fate was sealed.

Morgan couldn't bring herself to pity her nephew.

/-/-/-/-/

Naira woke feeling lethargic and sore from her first night sleeping up a tree. She stretched her back and winced, immediately deciding that the ground would probably be more comfortable in the future…

She sighed. No good. Trying to distract her mind with the inconsequential things wasn't working. She was still stuck on the events of yesterday; hunting Kevin (for that's all it could be called…he never stood a chance), and then the abduction of Kael.

Wincing somewhat at the pain movement caused, Naira slid down the smooth bark of the tree, her landing making barely a noise. It was still almost eerily silent, and again Naira got an uncomfortable feeling at the thought of making noise.

Opening her mouth and inhaling, she realized a few things very quickly. The false wind was blowing from the direction of Trien and Terren's cage; the air carried from that direction was significantly warmer than the air that moved from Kael's area. There was also a large quantity of water in that direction, a sparkle of which she could see beyond the field that was the larger part of the normal type's cage. But she couldn't scent the two occupants.

A rustling of the leaves above her caused her to snap her head up, just in time to see the form of a small, blue bird shoot through the top bars. Eyes narrowing in confusion, Naira moved back towards the direction her hunt took her the previous day, not eager to find out what that bird could mean: She wasn't stupid, this was a controlled environment, and if something was there it was meant to be there.

The blood was still there; she could smell it even before she saw it. Dry and brown, mostly soaked into the soil but some spatters clinging to the grass. Naira wondered if Kevin was still alive, and promptly decided that she still didn't care either way. If there was one thing she could now admit about herself, it was that she had no qualms about holding unfair grudges. Not allowing herself to dwell on any one thought too long, she continued to move.

The light was higher now, and it wasn't quite so silent anymore. It wasn't loud by any means, but occasionally voices could be heard murmuring, even the occasional laughter. Naira decided there must be an area where a few of the cell corners ended together; somehow, the Grovyle-morph didn't think the scientists would allow that many of their experiments to interact otherwise.

It didn't really surprise her when she ended up where she stood last night; slumped against the bars at the Y-intersection, snout between the cold metal and staring down the path Kael had been taken. What did surprise her though was seeing someone staring back from the cage next to Kael's, just a few feet from her; the mysterious unseen prisoner of last night, someone who looked vaguely familiar to her. Then she knew, and she smiled.

It was not at all a nice smile.

There stood the Glaceon-morph who was so afraid of her when they were both in the medical bay. He still was afraid, too, if the wideness of his eyes and the stiffness of his stance said anything. There was something about him that somehow, she was sure had there been no bars separating them, that she would have hunted him like she had Kevin. It was a sobering thought, and it was only then that Naira realized that she had been staring at him for a ridiculous amount of time without speaking.

She let her arms fall loosely at her side and her shoulders slump comfortably in what she hoped was a non-threatening manner. Tilting her head slightly, she noticed that he was shaking.

"I'm sorry to have scared you," Naira hissed softly at him, just loud enough to hear. When he jumped at the sound of her voice, she didn't know whether to be angry or ashamed; he was now looking at her like he hadn't expected her to be able to speak. She continued speaking when it became apparent he didn't intend to. "My name is Naira; who are you?"

It appeared that some sort of hardwired etiquette kicked in; the Glaceon boy bowed his head briefly before speaking just as quietly as Naira had. "I'm Adicus Lyle. Pl—" he cut himself off. Naira narrowed her eyes. Was he going to say..? She bared her teeth at him and this time reveled in his flinch.

"_Pleased_ to meet you too, Adicus Lyle," she hissed venomously. "For the record, just so we're clear, I've done nothing to you—" she glared and he stumbled back another few feet. "—yet."

Adicus fled further into his cell, which looked considerably larger than hers', or even Kael's, and left Naira again standing alone at the bars. She couldn't bring herself to be ashamed of her actions, especially when she realized what made her want to chase Adicus in the first place. He was twitchy, maybe more than the skittish Furret-morph, Terren: He was acting like prey. As far as the Grovyle-morph was concerned, if he was going to act like prey, then he should be treated like it.

Not a second later Naira's rational mind kicked back in and she wanted to hit herself. She had no right to even think that, because in doing so made her a hypocrite. He may be acting like a prey animal, but here she is acting like a predator: They were all acting like animals! She sighed and ran her claws through her short hair in frustration.

All this was doing was giving her one hell of a headache.

Somewhere above her, a blue bird circled.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:** As I said, I expect praise, meaning reviews X3 Seriously though, I hope you guys liked it...this one gave me some real issues.


	15. Spying Games

**A/N: **I can't decide if I've set a personal record yet; 3 chapters in less than two weeks? I'm thinking yes. X3 Aaanyway, this is a long chapter~

/-/-/-/-/

Naira's headache continued to worsen as the day went on, turning from a pulsing pain behind her eyes into a severe pressure along her temples and face. Not eager to see anyone, she took refuge near what she guessed was the center of her cell, surrounded completely by trees and thick underbrush. Sprawled out under the dense foliage, headache pulsing at a more bearable level, Naira allowed herself to relax, purposefully blanking her mind of thoughts.

She was unsure for how long she had laid there before picking up on the scent. It was unusual; dry, if a scent could be called that…maybe similar to ozone. Either way, it tingled over her senses and immediately intrigued her, causing her to roll into a crouch and follow the trail. Slinking soundlessly through the underbrush, Naira recalled that this was the direction Trien indicated the amorous electric types being. _What an interesting scent…_

When the new set of bars came into view, Naira found herself slowing, recalling the semi-disastrous meeting with Adicus. Erring on the side of caution, she decided it would be better to observe the electric morphs before introducing herself. Thankfully, the trees here grew very close to the bars; it didn't take much effort to scale one close enough to possibly see from.

Naira frowned; the slight wind was becoming erratic, changing direction every few seconds…her leaves shivered and a sense of dread she couldn't pinpoint settled over her like a cold slime. The ozone scent was closer still, and she could just barely hear the long grass of the other cell rustling below her. The sense of foreboding was getting worse and Naira started scanning the grass restlessly, cursing herself for choosing a tree whose foliage was too thick to properly see through.

No, there! Her eyes zeroed in on a patch of grass that was just starting to still, noticing the trail of disturbed grass leading to it. The grass appeared about four feet tall; that would mean whoever was there was actively hiding, crouching. Naira silently cursed the erratic wind for giving her away, for now it would seem like she was hiding from her "neighbor". So much for making a good first impression.

Keeping her eyes locked onto the one patch of grass, Naira dropped out of the tree, landing in a crouch before slouching over to the bars nearest to where she guessed her neighbor was. No movement came from the grass, but Naira was sure there was still someone there. Opening her mouth and inhaling deeply, the Grovyle-morph decided that whoever was in the grass was male, and…angry? Irritable? Naira couldn't decide on which emotion, but decided that she wanted nothing to do with it and turned to leave.

"Tybalt?" A female voice sounded close by, almost next to her, but not where she'd expected it to come from, not from that patch of grass. Startled, she turned and hissed, arms in a defensive position and leaves flared.

And all hell broke loose.

Looking back, Naira realized that she should really start paying attention to her instincts.

The girl who'd spoken, some sort of green-furred canine hybrid, yelped and jumped away from the bars, while at the same time the male Naira had scented tore out of the grass and stood before the bars, growling. Naira recognized his species as either Luxio or Luxray, but then decided Luxio because his arms were mostly covered in blue fur instead of black. The mane of black hair that spiked atop his head and around his face was bristled and sparking with electricity, his mouth set into a fang-baring snarl and his golden eyes glaring.

He took another step forward, spark-tipped tail lashing behind him and clawed hands readied at his sides; Naira, intimidated, hissed again and retreated a few steps into the trees. His female companion was looking on wide-eyed, apparently at a loss as to what to do in this situation. Then the double yellow rings above each of his wrists seemed to glow, and suddenly twin bolts of electricity shot out of his claws and struck the bars separating his cell from the divide, where it promptly dissolved.

An earsplitting alarm blared, causing all three to clamp their hands firmly over their ears, the electric types almost falling to the ground and Naira stumbling against a tree. Shrieks of alarm sounded from other parts of the enclosure, barely noticeable over the considerable noise.

A Kadabra suddenly appeared behind the Luxio-morph, and then they both disappeared. The alarm abruptly shut off.

The sudden silence was almost as loud as the alarm had been. The green-furred female sat openmouthed in shock, eyes tearing up as they stared at the spot where her cellmate had been. Naira quietly retreated into her forest, ears ringing and disoriented. Almost without realizing it, she wound up staring into Trien's cell, snout between the bars and eyes staring resolutely forward without actually seeing anything.

Terren came running along the cleared path just inside the bars on his side, standing up just before reaching her. Naira vaguely wondered how he could run on all fours and not look awkward…

"Do you know what happened?" His long ears were flat against his head and he was fidgeting; it sounded like he had already asked the question and didn't expect an answer. Naira vaguely nodded.

"Yeah, I was there," Terren looked startled. "Please go get Trien…I'll tell you then." The Furret-boy nodded before sniffing the air and heading back in the direction he had come from. A moment later, Naira realized she was touching the bars. She shuddered and took a step back before sitting on the ground, curling her knees to her chest and wrapping one arm around them, the other resting on the cool grass beside her.

She thought herself foolish for being so affected by someone she didn't even know being snatched up like that, but couldn't help herself. Rationally, she shouldn't be surprised; she'd already seen Kael's—much more violent—abduction. _It must have been because there was no warning_, she thought glumly. There was no chance of avoiding it, or even fighting it, if they could just take you before you could even realize what was happening. Naira found herself wearily dreading the great probability that she would soon be taken in such a manner, but dragged a more satisfying thought to the forefront. As long as she was still conscious while teleported she could cause hell wherever she appeared.

Still seated a few feet from the bars, Naira looked up just in time to see Terren come into sight, Trien bounding along slightly behind him. He skidded to a halt before her, squatting slightly off to the side while Trien immediately kneeled across from her and stuck an arm through the bars. Reluctant to be anywhere near the bars but suddenly craving some sort of touch, Naira shoved her arm into the gap and clasped Trien's hand as tightly as she could without hurting her.

"Terren said you know what happened," Trien stated softly after a few moments of silence. Naira nodded slightly, withdrawing her claw from Trien's hand and moving slightly away from the bars again. Getting her thoughts in order, Naira started to speak.

"I went over to watch the electric types you mentioned yesterday," she said slowly, carefully enunciating her words. "I didn't want to be seen right away, so I was watching from a tree by the bars. The wind kept changing directions; one of them was in the grass below me, and I was sure he already knew I was there. I went down to the ground to talk, but he didn't come out, so I went to leave." She paused for a few moments; the two normal types were listening with rapt attention and nodded for her to continue.

"I had my back turned… The other one had gotten close without me noticing her—I think she was downwind—and she spoke. I wasn't expecting her voice…It-it startled me," she hesitated a moment before pressing on, keeping her eyes looking steadily beyond her audience.

"I hissed at her…I don't know why. When I did, the other one jumped out of the grass; we stared off for a few seconds. He was furious," Naira's eyes narrowed in apparent confusion, but she continued speaking. "He tried to attack me with an electric attack, but it didn't work." Seeing Terren tilt his head and Trien start to frown, Naira tried to elaborate.

"As soon as the electricity hit the bars on his side—it didn't even get into the divide—it just disappeared. As soon as it did, the alarm came on…not even ten seconds later a Kadabra appeared and teleported him away," Naira noticed that the two didn't seem surprised, just disheartened. Trien was fiddling with the puff of fur at the end of her ear, not seeming conscious of the action as she thought. Terren was picking a clump of grass out of his prosthetic right foot, a small frown on his face.

"Terren," the Buneary morph's voice was low, almost a whisper. "You should go spread the news; just tell them that the alarm was because Tybalt attacked the bars. We all know touching them is fine, but…" she trailed off and smiled sadly. Terren shuffled over and leaned against her shoulder, offering as much comfort as an emotionally disturbed teenage boy could. He sighed, and Naira was struck at how _old_ his green eyes looked.

"I'll come back after I tell Xander; he and Lyra can spread the news further," Trien nodded and Terren took off in the direction of the distant water; Naira squelched the dark amusement that bubbled up at Terren's barely-apparent nervousness in her presence.

A companionable silence fell between the two of them and Naira allowed herself to lean against the bars, pushing her arm into the divide as a silent request. Trien complied, slipping her warm hand into the Grovyle morph's cooler claw, and they sat like that, hands joined in the divide, for another stretch of silence. The wind picked up for a moment, rustling the leaves above them, and Naira sighed.

"How are you, Naira?" Trien asked softly "Don't just say 'alright', either. You said you were feeling better yesterday, but I'll have to doubt you," She somehow managed to pull off a look that was both wry and sad. 'Better' wasn't in relative terms, apparently. Trien knew from what Naira told her of her life that she was practically a nurse, a caring individual…something had to have changed dramatically for Naira to feel 'better' even after she almost slaughtered someone. _Or maybe _because_ she had almost slaughtered someone…_

"You're right to doubt me, Trien," Naira said eventually; her eyes and throat stung like she was going to cry, but she didn't know why she would. "I doubt myself. I was so angry that I was changed, but now I can't imagine living without my scales." Trien squeezed her hand, but Naira couldn't meet her eyes. "Now though, I'm scared—really scared—that I'll lose myself. Sometimes, I just can't control myself…I just want to bite and chase," her hissing voice was quavering at the end. Out of frustration she hit her head on the cool metal of the bar; the pain brought some measure of relief.

"Naira," Trien's voice sounded so sad, the Grovyle hybrid forced herself to look up into the deep brown eyes across from her. "If you can even think like that than you have nothing to worry about: You still _care_ about holding onto your humanity." When Naira still looked doubtful, she continued. "Look, I've been here longer than you, and I've talked to the other 'morphs around. We all have this problem—maybe not as bad as yours—but we all still have to deal with this change. From what we've seen, _not_ acting on some of what you're feeling is going against nature, and will just come back and bite you later." Naira smiled and laughed a little, but still felt bad about dumping all of her problems onto Trien.

"Do you ever get tired of giving these pep-talks? It sounds like you've done a few," Trien didn't look offended in the least, but gave a cunning little smile instead.

"Someone's got to do them, and who's going to doubt a Buneary girl, really?" She pulled her hand back gently, taking both of them and folding them against her cheek, pulling off a cute and innocent starry-eyed expression, and tugging another smile out of Naira. It was good to talk to someone again… A sudden thought struck her though.

"Trien, do you know how long I was gone, after they took me from the cell? I keep feeling that a lot of time has passed since I fell asleep, but I can't be sure—" The expression on Trien's face stopped her from asking any more. It was one of horror, but the almond shaped eyes weren't looking at her—they were looking _behind_ her. Naira cautiously turned around, leaves starting to stand out, and again felt a cold sense of dread drip over her…

It was just that little blue bird again, starting at them cautiously from a branch not five feet away, its wings half furled.

Naira started to look back to Trien—the Buneary hybrid was mumbling a steady mantra of 'no'—but when she moved her head, she saw a glint of light reflect off of the small bird pokémon. Shoulders slumping in resignation she examined the eerily still bird more carefully: The black strap around its forehead almost hid the shine of the small lens attached to it, and the small collar around its neck was most definitely a small listening device.

For once fully conscious of her actions, Naira ran at the bird with great speed and leapt, intending to kill it (_Maybe eat it…_). The startled pokémon flapped its wings frantically and shot off the branch; with a snarl of fury the Grovyle hybrid grabbed at it, getting only a few tail feathers. Hissing various curses under her breath, Naira dropped the feathers and kneaded her temples as the headache returned full-force.

"Naira?" Oh, that was right. Trien was still there…Naira repressed a sigh when she realized these constant displays were not reflecting well on her mental state.

"Hmm?" She didn't feel like talking anymore. Too much had been said already; who knew if they were still listening?

"Are you okay?" She got no response from Naira, but that could be an answer all its own. For the first time, Trien appeared uncomfortable around her…it saddened the Grovyle morph more than she would care to admit. The silence got uncomfortable.

"I-I guess I'll go tell the others to watch out for Taillow," she trailed off, and was stroking one of her ears again. Naira thought it might be a nervous tic. When she realized Trien was waiting for acknowledgment, she nodded and waved slightly, before slinking off into the trees again.

Again finding her sanctuary at the center of her cell, Naira considered that maybe it was best to just not interact with her neighbors. Nothing good ever seemed to come from it.

/-/-/-/-/

"How…enlightening," Morgan drawled, watching the Taillow-cam over Erebos's shoulder as he sat before a screen.

"We missed what they were talking about before," Erebos stated flatly, watching the tape replay the Grovyle charging the camera, the Buneary barely seen in the background, looking horrified all the same. Morgan hummed noncommittally, but one of Team C's members, who were in charge of keeping footage orderly in the Main Surveillance room, spoke from another screen nearby.

"It was probably about the alarm," he said offhandedly, scrutinizing his screen which at the moment displayed the Furret and Dewgong hybrids talking through the bars. "They've set up an information net, you know," his gray eyes flickered over to Erebos's screen momentarily before he turned to face them.

"No, I didn't." Erebos said, pausing the recording and facing the younger man. "Enlighten me," Morgan looked interested, but was called away by a maintenance worker entering the room, leaving the two of them in a relatively quiet corner of the room. To his credit, the Team C researcher didn't look as nervous as most did while around him.

"Well, it's just what it sounds like," the younger man started hesitantly, pushing ash-blonde hair out of his eyes. "Because of the irregular shapes of each enclosure, some cells 'overlap' with more than others. For example," he pointed to a blueprint on a nearby table; a labeled overview of the whole Habitat, more specifically an enclosure close to the center. "This is **FW-2-NV**, taking up most of the water and holding the Dewgong and Milotic. If you look you can see it shares walls—so to speak—with five other enclosures," Erebos interrupted him.

"So if something happens they all know about it," The younger man nodded before continuing.

"Almost all of them," Erebos raised a questioning eyebrow "Some of them play no part in this net: A couple of the more aggressive warn the others away, and the more timid—the Glaceon, for example—have barely interacted with others at all." The older of the two nodded to convey his understanding.

"Are you picking up anything on the stationary listening devices?" The younger went back over to his screen, pulling up some data while he answered.

"We're getting some, nothing very important, but some interesting tidbits." He started smiling and looked over his shoulder at Erebos, still standing at the blueprint. "One of them makes it difficult for us, though. Some of them slip into the pokémon language sometimes; it doesn't look like they realize it, and so far it looks like all of the other hybrids understand it. We can only understand it vaguely by use of the psychics, but it is interesting to watch," he looked ready to continue on, but Morgan interrupted him, walking over with the maintenance worker behind her.

"Erebos," she snapped, apparently not pleased with the news she had heard. "You won't _believe_ what these _nitwits_ found." Erebos didn't appear affected by her mood, but leveled her with a cool gaze. She scoffed and crossed her arms; the man behind her looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he spoke in a level tone.

"There was a fault between two of the now-disused cells. It wasn't there in the last quarterly inspection—I can only guess that being this close to the mountain it's expected for the ground to shift. I'm requesting inspections for all the other rooms and walls in the compound," Erebos got a far-away look on his face, as if he were thinking about something and—oddly—smiled.

"Start with the other cells before moving onto the labs," he said at last. The worker nodded and left, but Morgan stayed, still looking at Erebos oddly.

"Why are you smiling like that?" she looked at him shrewdly over her glasses and then raised an eyebrow. "You're planning something." It wasn't a question.

"I need you to go prepare a cell—I don't care where. It must have _no_ light source, not even an unblocked crack under the door," she turned to leave and comply, but he wasn't done yet. "There also must be a viewing window directly across from the back wall. The wall should have manacles to hold the wrists, only the wrists, and the chain must be short."

"How short?" Better to comply now and ask why later; Erebos wasn't one to let others in on his plans.

"Short enough that if you tried to sit you would be able to, but your arms would be at a painful angle." The look in his eyes wasn't very reassuring. It was the same look he had before ordering the Pachirisu specimen's execution be broadcast over the speakers. She nodded and left, reminding herself that she still needed have a team finish treating the Sneasel before returning him to his enclosure. It wouldn't do to have their first successful specimen die from something as plebian as an infection.

"Sir," A scientist from the lab in charge of changing their hybrids was calling Erebos from the door. He looked quite distraught, which was unusual; he'd been peppy since the mortality rate dropped from 80 percent to 15.

"Sir, another of the field agents just arrived. He's wandered off somewhere in the compound, but—" his hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles looked bleached. "You should just come and see for yourself."

Erebos allowed the man to lead him to a smaller room across the hall from the room whose door proclaimed "Transformation" in big, bold letters. There were already a few people there, all hovering over an unconscious figure strapped rather loosely on a cot. They actually looked _worried_. Call it hypocritical that people who frequently slaughtered people in horrible genetic experiments or brutal fights could be worried, but it didn't change that they still were.

Actually curious now, the hazel eyed man moved closer, conscious that the others moved to make room for him as he did. On the cot was a boy in his early teens, although in the state he was—which was quite horrible, Erebos had to admit to himself—he looked younger. He was pale and shaking, and although he must be deeply unconscious his breathing was shallow and quick.

"He came in like this?" Erebos asked stiffly, and noticed the people nearest him glancing his way nervously as they nodded. "I don't care who brought him in yet, but do not let them leave." More nods all around. "Bring in some IVs. We've got to examine him to see what's wrong, but I can already tell now that he's dehydrated."

There were still two people standing by the boy, so Erebos pointed them out. "You will be helping me," there was no argument from either. "Cut off these clothes; they're disgusting."

No one was reassured when the filthy red and black shirt was removed; his ribs could be seen clearly, and most of his chest was covered in patterns of small, deep cuts, all of which looked thoroughly irritated. Trying to clean them brought about two revelations: The first was the boy flinched away from contact even while deeply unconscious, and the second was that it appeared someone had _literally_ rubbed salt into his wounds.

Looking back up to his face, Erebos noticed how truly horrible he looked. His lower lip was split badly, and one whole side of his face was a large black bruise. His brown hair was a tangled nest of knots and dried blood…they would have to check that there weren't any terrible lacerations on his scalp.

The first of the horribly bad feelings came when one of his helpers noticed the finger-shaped bruises that wrapped around the boy's throat.

It was with considerably more dread that they cut off the boy's worn and tattered jeans. Now that they had the suspicion, it really shouldn't have been quite as shocking when they found the bruises and scratches on his hips. Still, the room got very quiet; it stayed that way until he had been cleaned up and re-dressed in the loose grayish clothing they kept for the hybrids.

Yes, they were hypocritical monsters, but even monsters had to have morals.

"Who brought him in?" Erebos demanded icily. They had been here for over an hour attending the boy, who even with this care would take over a week to recover sufficiently enough to even survive the process of the Transformation.

It wasn't just that this field agent had harmed the boy, or cost them time, but the fact that he did it obviously enough and still turned the boy in. It was insulting to them, like saying: 'Oh, well, he'll be less than human soon anyway, so it's okay for me to show what a disgusting human being I am. The rest of the people working down here are _just like me_.'

Thoroughly insulting, and if there was one thing that Erebos did not stand for, it was being insulted without repentance.

"Oliver," said one of the people who had set up the boy's IVs. "As soon as he brought the boy in he just left. I thought he went to the sleeping quarters, but that's the same direction as the isolation cells," At this point she seemed to be pondering out loud, but she succeeded in concerning everyone. Erebos scowled fiercely.

"Go find him, now," he snapped "Throw him in one of the old empty cells. Use force if necessary and find me when you have him,"

Only one of them left at first, but everyone in the quiet room heard when she ordered a few of the pokémon used in Arena matches to accompany her to apprehend Oliver. One of the older scientists in the room volunteered to monitor the boy, and almost as if had been ordered, all the others cleared out, heading back to resume their duties.

Erebos started back in the direction of the classified surveillance room to check on the occupants of the isolated cells. If Oliver had compromised any more of the existing experiments, he would find himself wishing to have never been involved.

This was _his_ project, oh yes, and Erebos couldn't stand people interfering with what was his to control.

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N:** Look! It was only two scenes! *gasp* We have character development! And new characters introduced, too! And exactly nothing of Kevin; sorry if you care about him, he's still in recovery... And yes, it is acceptable to throw a pity-party for the boy just introduced (you may remember him from the interlude...). Tell me what you think! Who knows, maybe your reviews will make me write another chapter by next friday? X3


	16. Haze

**A/N: **Miss me? Heh, that doesn't really matter; here's a chapter! -cackles-

/-/-/-/-/

As Erebos made his way to the classified surveillance room, he keenly noticed the subtle change of atmosphere exhibited around the compound. It seemed that the news of Oliver's exploits was already circulating: Instead of examining slides or compiling data as was their job, the people he passed were clustered in groups talking heatedly. He was secretly pleased with the loyalty shown by the scientists, whether they realized it or not; news passed from his name was taken at face value. The first response was to obey, and _maybe _question why later.

A commotion in the Main Surveillance room halted him briefly. He only had to glance in the door to realize what had happened; Oliver, obviously realizing he was being pursued, had one of his pokémon short out the cameras randomly, all throughout the compound. Erebos realized this quickly only because it was part of the standard tactics any of the field agents had to know to throw off security. Cunning bastard was trying to throw them off his trail. The only thing he hadn't anticipated was a witness to his direction in the first place.

Absolutely sure now that Oliver has reason to hide his actions, Erebos sped his pace to the secure room, entering his access code and sliding into his seat before the monitors. Setting all to display the occupied isolated cells he sneered angrily at what he found. About half of the cameras were offline—he was now sure that Oliver was using his Magneton's electrical field to disrupt the feed. Even as he worked to reestablish connection with the cameras, he has to admit that Oliver's planning is on par with his own.

Realistically, the other field agent must have gotten away with this before. This kind of behavior is one that evolves; for him to have such an involved plan to throw off pursuers it must have been practiced before. To Erebos, or anyone who could have handled this situation properly, discovering this was all a lucky stroke of chance, and it annoyed him to no end when he realized that.

Their system down here was not perfect. Many of the workers were focused only on_ their_ task, reporting anything noteworthy to their superiors. That in itself was flawed; they reported what was noteworthy to _them personally_, not always what needed to be known. Important things can be missed when the reports are opinionated.

Take for example the case of the boy just brought in, whose physical condition should have been noted and reported as too unstable to transform successfully, which it was. It was flawed though. The scientist that came to personally report to Erebos was not supposed to; Erebos was not his direct supervisor, but one of the few at the top level of the hierarchy. The man's supervisor, had he been reported to, may have simply Okayed the transformation and would have inevitably wasted resources by killing off a specimen.

So, while that one scientist reporting to Erebos instead of his own supervisor saved them a specimen, he also subverted the system. Doing that overloaded some people's responsibilities while letting others flounder about uselessly. It strained the system unnecessarily, although for once Erebos was pleased by this breach in conduct.

Had that superior been reported to and decided to take action, it would have been in a very different way, possibly letting Oliver (again) get off scot-free. A superior, even at that level, would not have had enough authority to shut off escape for the field agent. In turn, it would have reversed the whole chain of events: Oliver would not have heard about the lockdown/search for him, and would not have used his escape maneuvers. He would not have upset the cameras, causing the quiet mayhem among the other grunts. That would not have alerted them that a real situation was going on, and would not have lead to someone of high authority to access the secure monitors.

Erebos would not have been watching the man through the newly reestablished feed, pinning one of the isolated subjects to the floor of the cell.

"Kadabra," he spoke, and a pokéball hidden under his casually worn lab coat released a flash of white energy, quickly fading into the golden Psi pokémon. Erebos pointed to the monitor, and the intelligent pokémon turned its angular head to watch the screen.

"Go subdue Oliver," Kadabra nodded and teleported into the cell. Watching the monitor, Erebos saw the man flung against the wall and held there by a psychic blast, the small occupant of the cell crawling to the far corner and huddling there.

Before leaving his station he called down to one of the labs.

"Oliver is secure in Venonat cell," he glanced at the screens that had previously been—and some still were—out. "Send teams to the following cells to evaluate any possible damage: Venonat, Torchic, Pidgey, Doduo, Kricketune, Sneasel, Monferno and Teddiursa."

There were quite a number of people already around by the time Erebos finished re-establishing the cameras and went to the Venonat cell. Almost immediately he was approached by one of the few people who outranked him, the Kricketune hybrid trailing behind the slight man obediently. Erebos nodded to him shortly and only turned his full attention to the other after assuring himself that Kadabra still had Oliver under control. The other field agent was snarling obscenities at the psychic pokémon, as well as the people who went in to retrieve the damaged Venonat hybrid.

"I've heard the most interesting things about one of our agents today," the man drawled, unperturbed as the red-shelled insect hybrid leaned against him, humming an interesting tune. "Tell me, Erebos, what exactly is going on?"

So, while more people arrived and took care of the injured specimens—of which there were four—Erebos told his superior what had happened, from the time he was called to see the new boy to the time he arrived at the Venonat's cell. Throughout his re-telling the other man listened intently, eerily large eyes locked on the scarred man's face, oblivious to his little pet adjusting it's scythe-like arms over his shoulders so that it's spindly fingers could play with his—somewhat greasy—auburn hair.

"Hmm," the other man hummed, his large light brown eyes flickering as another string of curses erupted from the cell before them. "It seems we need to demonstrate again what happens to those who grossly fall out of line,"

The Kricketune hybrid, still playing with the shorter man's hair, chirped something to him that Erebos couldn't understand, but his superior obviously did. "No Kyuu, you may not have this one," he reprimanded, as if talking to a small child asking for candy before dinner.

"Sir?" Erebos asked sharply, and the other man smiled at him, a weird half-smile that showed no teeth. He continued talking to his pet, although his eerie eyes stayed on Erebos.

"Why don't we let Erebos take care of it, Kyuu?" he purred, and the hybrid squealed happily, looking to the scarred man with large, glassy eyes. "He always comes up with the most fun consequences," he trailed off, but then appeared to remember something. "Speaking of consequences, how is Kevin?"

"Healing," Erebos replied shortly. Frankly, he was somewhat unnerved by the Kricketune hybrid being unrestrained, but forced himself not to show it. "Nothing that's not fixable by time and enforced bed rest," Meaning he was shackled to the bed in the medical bay, but it went without saying.

There was a sudden commotion down the hallway; a bout of high laughter and a few shouts—causing Kyuu to tense and half-turn, as if to shield his human—, but it stopped almost as soon as it started, and the Sneasel was hauled out of one of the cells, unconscious, and carted in the direction of the Habitat.

Oliver hadn't touched him, or the Kricketune. He was smart enough to stay away from _those _health hazards.

"Seeing such a wild specimen reminds me, Erebos, of something else I've heard," It was a wonder how much he could possibly overhear, playing the part of a lowly lab scientist. "There's talk of you setting up a room to, ah, _break a mind_," he trailed off, purposefully reaching to toy with one of Kyuu's antennae, the hybrid chirruping again.

Erebos really wondered how he could have known that, only having sent Morgan to start prep for the room a mere two hours ago.

"I don't deny it, Sir," Erebos said coolly. The other man just hummed again as he started to leave, heading in the direction of the Mess Hall, Kyuu trailing behind him. He called to Erebos over his shoulder.

"Do as you will, but take care of Oliver as well," he waved a thin hand dismissively. "Tell me when you decide his fate; as I said before, your shows are always the most amusing to watch…"

No reply was necessary. No matter how casually it was phrased, it was still an order: Punish Oliver Accordingly, Inform Superiors of the Show.

Erebos gestured to the team awaiting him; two men with Machoke standing against the wall outside the Venonat cell. They entered the darkened room, eliciting another string of curses from Oliver, still psychically pinned to the wall by Kadabra, whom at this point looked particularly bored.

"Let him down," Erebos ordered the psychic pokémon, cold eyes locked on the disheveled agent pinned three feet off the ground. He fell clumsily when the power released him, and was immediately set upon and restrained by the muscular fighting pokémon.

"Anything you'd like to say for yourself, Oliver?" One of the men of the team snarled, taking a step forward as if to hit him. The effect was lost somewhat on the fact that Oliver was a beast of a man, standing heavily muscled and over six feet tall.

"You can't do shit to me," he growled, pale eyes on the silent form of Erebos, returning Kadabra to its pokéball. The scarred man offered him a raised eyebrow, as if to say "oh, really?".

"Believe what you like, Oliver," he said ominously "But no, _I_ won't do a thing," Before Oliver could find a reply, Erebos continued, turning to the men awaiting orders. "Put him in the Pit until I order otherwise."

Again, his orders were carried out in all haste, without question. Oliver, for all his strength, was no match for a fighting pokémon, let alone two: He made a fool of himself, kicking and screaming like a child. Erebos walked away from the scene with a sneer; Oliver was with them from nearly the beginning, he of anyone should have been aware of the consequences of his actions.

/-/-/-/-/

Glazed yellow eyes stared vaguely through the leaves above, through the bars, as the sun reached its zenith. Her scaled limbs worked without thought, pushing so she dropped out of the tree and to the ground. What might once have been a crouched landing was instead a fall. Naira crumpled weakly upon impact, lying among the foliage around the base of her home tree.

Some time passed before she shakily rose, having passed out briefly. Claws over her snout, so as to muffle her hypersensitive sense of smell, she inhaled deeply, hoping to solidify her tenuous hold on consciousness. Blinking hard to focus blurring vision, she leaned against her home tree, scratching another mark at chest level.

Nine marks, now. Six vertical, one diagonal through them. Another two vertical next to the first group. Nine days she counted being in this cell. Seven since she had spoken last, to Trien. Or...she thought it had been nine days. She had been careful to mark every time the sun-lights had been directly overhead, but she had no way of knowing if she had slept more than one day at a time...

Curling one arm over her stomach, as if it would soothe the pain, Naira walked as smoothly as she could towards one of the small clearings that were within her forested cell. She followed the scent, the feel, of a psychic pokémon, and finds one of the little green birds waiting for her, a bowl of water beside it. Again. Today, unlike the previous two times this had happened, Naira didn't even have the energy to chase the bird, though her hunger far outstripped what it had been before.

Naira had come upon the conclusion that they were trying to starve her into submission. Worse, she knew that it was working, that she was failing, and that was why she kept as far away from the bars as she could. The longer the hunger built the more fiercely her instincts screamed that the other morphs were prey. It was better to keep away; ignore Trien's calls until she called no more. Naira last remembers hearing her voice two days ago, and thinks the Buneary morph has finally given up.

The psychic type teleports away as she comes closer; even still, her muscles twitch weakly, feeling the _need_ to chase. A shudder wracked her frame as she stared at the seemingly innocent bowl of water, and blurring, weary eyes glared at it as if it were poison. It wasn't _just_ water, had never been. The other two bowls had been spiked, too; made her sleepy, clumsy and lethargic. Incapable of steady movement for _hours_ on end. But she still had to drink it, because there was no other source of water in her little prison, and Naira did not want to die.

Using both claws to carefully lift the bowl, Naira tipped the water into her mouth quickly, holding her breath as she swallowed so as to avoid tasting the bitter sedative lacing the water. It sat heavily in her empty stomach, but despite the pain she couldn't bring herself to eat leaves again, so she tried to ignore it.

Before the lethargy could take hold Naira stood and slunk out of the clearing. Weakened though she was, her instincts would not allow her to be helpless in the open; as a matter of fact, she was _more_ pressed to be out of sight because of her condition. Bitter resentment for being helpless in the first place was a constant companion, becoming more prominent the more she was forced to hide away. Here she was, a predator having to behave like _prey_.

Naira didn't bother to think twice on correcting her increasingly inhuman thoughts.

She barely made it to her haven--a place near the center of her cell that was thick with trees and bushes--before she collapsed. Lying on the ground, mostly obscured by the vibrantly healthy vegetation, Naira's body refused to take her any further. She was dying, could feel it. Not even sitting in the sunlight was helping anymore, and pulling at the knowledge gained from working in a Pokémon Center and grass types in general she knew that that was a _very_ bad thing. Her ever-growing dark outlook reminded her that days earlier she'd thought it would be ironic if she were to die of starvation after surviving the Change.

Now that it was looking more and more likely that she _would_ die that way, it was more than a little frightening. It also brought up more than a few questions about the people who did this to her and all the rest of the morphs; with nothing better to do she let them form thoughts.

Why were they doing this? How? Where did they get the resources to build this? The money? The people? The _knowledge_? How was this still secret (this kind of thing would _definitely_ make the news), especially with all the people that must have gone missing?

Did anyone even know she was missing? What about all the others? How many families were missing children?

These...people...though, they seemed to be working carefully, didn't they? She saw proof that they studied their...targets before they actually struck: How many people had been abducted with no one the wiser? Naira herself was estranged from her family, and had no friends in the city. She also remembered Trien saying that she'd left her home region to start her journey. Trainers went missing all the time...no one would have any _clue_...

Naira rolled onto her back, blinking slowly at the leaves swaying in the synthetic wind. She inhaled deeply, digging claws into the grass, then the dirt beneath in a futile attempt to still the swimming earth. Yellow eyes slid closed in pain as another lance of fire shot through her stomach; she had never been so hungry before, not even the time she went camping and got lost in the forest for three days...

She exhaled softly and turned her head, lowering her snout from the air in an attempt to mute the scents carried by the wind. She didn't (_yes she did!_) want to smell the other morphs, even if she was still relieved that Kael had been returned. The Sneasel-morph turned up a few days after he was taken, looking cleaner and healthier than she had ever seen him. Naira had seen him only once since then, a few nights previous when her instincts weren't quite so persistent in hunting the other prisoners. He had been sitting on an outcrop of rocks, eerily striking surrounded by snow and "moon"-light, and they silently observed one another. Kael wasn't smiling--didn't smile-- and Naira slunk back into the trees as quietly as she'd arrived.

She still couldn't shake the feeling that he had known _exactly_ what she had been thinking, almost doing. Naira pondered the idea that maybe he had the instinct to hunt as well, and decided that it was plausible. He had one to fight, at least.

Fighting. The very thought made her blood rush in anticipation. She _wanted_ to battle again; battle, not hunt. Hunting was too easy (as Kevin proved wonderfully) but to actively fight against an opponent...just thinking it made her almost _giddy_. It also make her leaves stand firm and sharp, her throat tingle with that static energy.

But that was beside the point.

Naira couldn't remember exactly when she started feeling the urge to fight, but it was sometime after the first bowl of water, when she was weakening. It might have been something in the water--a drug-- but she couldn't be sure.

Somehow, though, Naira felt _strong_ in her weakness.

Sharp yellow eyes slid back open in time to see the annoying, spying bird fly off again. They knew where she was now. Arms as green as the grass they rested on attempted to push off the ground, but to no avail. The lethargy of the sedative was still too thick; Naira was barely able to twitch a claw, let alone move. She swallowed reflexively, remembering how the Luxio morph--Tybalt?-- was taken. If Kadabra came now, she wouldn't even be able to fight...

Time passed, the lights above changing angle until they eventually turned orange to signify sunset, and still Naira was unable to move. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, like a bird struggling to free itself from a cage. This was wrong, so wrong; the last two times the weakness had worn off within a couple hours. According to the lights she had been stuck here for over six!

As the orange lights dimmed, the singing started: Naira tensed as the eerie melody floated through the suddenly silent enclosure. The singing was the best and worst part of the day, recently. Every night the morph would sing, and it was beautiful unless you listened too closely. There were words lacing the chirping, warbling melody; words of torture and pain, love and devotion. Naira thought that it was the morph's life story, though she tried not to feel too much pity: Not all of the pain and torture was during his time as a pokémon hybrid.

Against her will, Naira found herself listening too closely, and heard the story of the parents who abused their child and paid the ultimate price for it. Sometime between one string and the next her vision blacked and she fell unconscious, dreaming of a starving child hacking up his parents and eating them.

/-/-/-/-/

Taillow flew on swift blue wings, weaving agilely through the underground trees and bars with ease. He knew he was small for his age--the smallest of his nest mates-- but the humans said he was special, and his job was the most important. So he held his head straight as he was trained, and came closer to the pokémon-that-weren't than he would have liked, and he was treated well for it.

Even underground he felt the pull of the north still, and started there, where it was warm. He weaved between the top bars of the northernmost cage, keen eyes watching for the not-Charmeleon that was kept here but seeing nothing among the boulders. Circling lower cautiously, Taillow flew closer to the small stand of charred trees at one of the borders, before frantically barrel rolling to dodge a stream of flame from the cave he'd overlooked.

He strained his wings to get out of the cage, dodging flame and getting singed tail-feathers for his trouble. Taillow should have taken that as a sign.

Every cage he was spotted in, after that, he was attacked. The not-Aron threw a boulder at him. Not-Growlite shot flames at him, though didn't aim as well as not-Charmeleon. Not-Milotic watched as not-Dewgong shot him out of the air and tried to drown him in their lake. Not-Buneary leapt impressively, and would have grabbed him had not the top bars blocked her way; not-Furret threw rocks at him.

Taillow's wing still hurt from that.

Not-Electrike stared at him with murder in her eyes. Her mate wasn't back yet, and Taillow couldn't stand her eyes to stay too long.

Not-Kricketune scared Taillow, but he wasn't supposed to watch that one anyway. One of the humans owned him.

Not-Grovyle took a while to find, and since she wasn't moving Taillow sat in a nearby tree and pointed his head directly at her, as he was trained to do when they were not aware of him. Taillow almost thought she was dead until the eyes opened, and he took flight as soon as he saw yellow. She had attacked once before, and he wouldn't chance losing _more_ tail feathers today.

Not-Glaceon was hiding, like some of the others, so Taillow didn't bother trying to find him. The humans hadn't ordered him to look at that one, and he didn't want to experience an ice attack: More so than his siblings, Taillow was greatly affected by the cold.

He reluctantly flew through the bars of the last cage, entering the domain of the not-Sneasel. Eyes darting around suspiciously Taillow flew lower, weaving nimbly through the half-frozen pines, towards the icy rocks jutting out of the ground. He didn't even suspect it when he was swatted out of the air and into the snow, rolling until the same hand wrapped around his middle, pinning sleek wings uselessly to his side.

Not-Sneasel's eyes were mere inches from his beak in a second, as were the exposed fangs in his mouth, but he was smiling. The not-pokémon (not person, either) stripped Taillow of his camera and microphone, crushing them into the snow. Taillow struggled when the eyes turned back to him, but the not-Sneasel simply patted him on the head and tore some of the human-covering he was wearing and bound his wings to his sides.

"Why'd you do that?" Taillow demanded indignantly, futilely flexing his wings in their bindings. Not-Sneasel looked surprised for a moment before smiling at the bird; the smile looked more natural than it should have, with those sharp fangs still too close for his comfort.

"'Cause nobody likes being watched, for one," not-Sneasel said, immediately. "And I could have done with a snack, for two--" he simply held a little tighter when Taillow renewed his struggles "--But I guess you could be a friend, now." Taillow tilted his head at that.

"What if I don't wanna?" he asked, stupidly, more than a little uncomfortable.

"You say that like you have a choice!" not-Sneasel crowed. "Either way, you're not leaving~"

Taillow sighed. Well, at least he wouldn't have to worry about singed feathers anymore...

/-/-/-/-/

**A/N: **Not as action packed as the rest, but it's necessary. I know I always say this, but /hopefully/ the next chapter gets out before the next year, ya? -.-'


End file.
